No More Weeping, No More Shame
by Reginald Classy-Duck
Summary: Luke only wanted to revive his crumbling town, so how did the little white-haired boy become the monstrous tyrant he desperately wished never to be? A lost innocence, a misguided hope, a deluded morality; this is the tale of our beloved mayor.
1. Chapter 1: Light and Hope

**No More Weeping, No More Shame**

* * *

_______Long live the king._

_______J____ust kidding, I lied; he's dead_. Dead as a coffin-nail dead, or at least his soul is. Good riddance anyway; the last words I'd want to say to him would be "rest in peace". Nobody grieved his loss. Nobody. Oh, would you like to know who that dastard was? Incidentally, he was just a boy: a mere child. He was at first a real hero, a nobody who became a somebody to save our broken town. But he was also a madman, a monster twisted and blackened with evil within. The child became the villain, and that somebody soon became a broken nobody. He was, as simply as I can surmise, turned from a zero to a hero... and back. Tragic story, huh? You'd think I feel bad for the kid. _But no; our story doesn't stop there. It gets worse than that! __His sins are far more terrible than any court can summarize. They are too terrible for me to tell you now. He single-handedly destroyed the lives of thousands. As a mayor- no; as a deluded tyrant he has done damage far too irreparable. His friends soon became his enemies. The child... he has caused too much grief in such short time._

_Funny thing, though. He thought he was trying to do "the right thing" for everyone. He thought he was their friend! And now look how wrong, how terribly wrong he was. _

_______And would you like to know who that wonderful child is? ________He was convicted of the unspeakable crimes, his head bowed in utter shame. _He's sitting right here in this straitjacket, awaiting a sentencing hearing. He's me! Come, come and listen to the mad king. Hear the tale of his detestable rise and fall. _______As I sit in my cell, allow me to take this short time to recall a wonderfully despicable tale of__ how I, a foolish child named Luke, became the monster I never wanted to be. _

_Enemies and friends, this is the tale of a boy whose stupid ambitions and 'moralities' were his own undoings. __The best of times became the worst of times, yet the delusion of purity was transformed into the clarity of truth. ____He would find solacing comfort in the truths and friends he found. He would find ugly pain in the truths and enemies he discovered. __A questioning of morality, a loss of innocence, and a bleakness of truth. All these things seemed so unreal, yet as the child grew in the darkness they became altogether too real for him. He savored it all._

_And after I tell you this story, you'll probably want to hate me, wouldn't you? You would want me to die a cold, miserable death, locked up in solitary confinement for the rest of my life? In fact, why don't you, dear reader, take my snub-nose __– yes the crimson-stained revolver __– and do what everyone else would want to do?_

_I wouldn't blame you._

_But when I'm finished, the only thing I want you to know about is a silly little thing I learned called remorse. _

_..._

_..._

_...sigh. _

_Seventeen's a good age to die, 'innit? Well, I guess I'm cheating myself since my birthday – and sentencing, go figure – is tomorrow. Eighteen it is. Dear readers, here is my story._

* * *

******Light and Hope**

* * *

Spring morning's golden grace shone brightly on a quiet airport, which was usually filled with the sounds of calm footsteps and nonchalant conversation. But today, peace was disrupted by an urgent stamping and thudding of sneakers as they noisily pounded the tile floor.

_Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!_

A shrill cry torn with exasperation squealed out from a frustrated voice right above the uncouth sneakers, not attempting to conceal feelings of unmitigated panic. "AARGH! My plane! The flight! I'm going to miss it now; what was the gate again?!"

The owner of the pounding sneakers and the shrieking voice, a little boy with a ticket messily scrunched in his palm, was in no mood to respect the morning's quiet normalcy. He madly dashed to and fro between the gates, scooting around the throng of adults and clutching the crumpled ticket in one hand and his half-unzipped backpack in the other. The boy shot a flustered scowl of desperation as he read the multitudinous gate signs; all seemed to be in a strange language to him. More signs, maps, and marquees obstructed his vision as he wildly panned around to find the flight gate, craning his neck like an ostrich every few dozen steps - a comical sight, he was.

Obviously, he seemed to be late for something.

_Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!_

"Where is that freaking gate? Am I running in circles? Come on, come on! Ugh what the freaking... how'd I oversleep this morning, _the _most important morning of the year so far?" he growled, trying to erase the embarrassing memory of realizing he hadn't set his alarm that morning. "Well, here's the boarding pass. Let's see again what it says. Right, so... gate number sixty-one?" He looked up at one of the airport's numerous signs overhead.

Block letters spelled out: "Gates 1-19"

A sinking feeling gutted him right in the chest; the boy now wished to go back in time and kick himself for failing to wake up on time. "Cripes! No! I must have walked my way through a wrong turn; I'm in the wrong section of the airport! Arrgh stupid stupid _stupid_!" he yelled, again not making an effort to conceal his worry while he proceeded to slap himself in the face.

By now several nearby adults turned their heads around, furtively glancing at the flustered fifteen-year-old, yet the boy didn't care; he had a plane to catch before it flew away. Swiftly turning around and making a sloppily-executed 180-degree turn, he broke out into a furious sprint for the other side of the airport. The adults turned their attention to the running boy, a wiry kid with messy white hair flapping about as he dashed down the halls and aisles. To most of them, this boy was the personification of boorish immaturity.

After glancing at a wall-mounted map, the boy began mutter to himself. "Okay. I know where the gate is now. Out of all places, all the way on the other side, of course. Won't be difficult," he mused, "I think I'll make it in time, I just need-"

"_Ding-dong!" _ chimed the announcements intercom.

A click followed, then the voice of an airport worker. "Final call for A.C. Airlines Flight 412 to Altomaire, final call for A.C. Airlines boarding. All passengers make their way to Gate Sixty-One for departure immediately. Flight 412 is still awaiting the admission of one passenger, will he or she kindly make his or her way to the flight? The gate will be closing in two minutes. _Click!_" the voice briefly chirped.

"OR NOT; UGH RUN NOW, NOW GO GO _GO!"_ he yelled, sprinting even faster, clutching his backpack and his boarding ticket while squeezing precious air into his panging lungs. The big adults left a wide swath for him to run through and gasped in shock and disapproval (with a yell of stern admonition from at least one or two of them). The gates, the seats, the tiny shops along the walls, and the older ones all became a senseless blur to the boy, who cared only to make it in time and struggled to dampen his panic. His body was on full throttle, his feet coursing madly in a harangued sprint.

_ClompClompClompClompClompClompClomp!_

The sneakers hit the tiled floor harder, pushing away as each step yearned to find its way toward Gate 61. The boy's slim jeans began to slide down from his waist, freed from the hastily-looped belt which was now nowhere to be found. A couple coins jingled on the floor as they fell from his partly-unzipped backpack pockets. Shoelaces flapped crazily like tentacles as they untied themselves from the sneakers. Dashing desperately and rather comically, the boy was now biting his boarding pass, clutching his backpack, and holding onto his sliding slim jeans. He looked up for a half-second to check his surroundings.

"Hmmphmmh! Thrr't ts. M'm Hrre! 'Mphde mt!" he cried with the boarding pass still held by his jaws. Adults watched with disapproving glares. Above him, a sign – suddenly in clear English to him – read "Gates 50-61". Just down the end of the hallway, he thought he could spot the plane he was looking for.

It was almost six fifty-six in the morning, and the sun was crawling up the sky, flooding the halls of the airport with bright rays of light through the huge windows. The maxim of spring morning's beauty had approached the land. Of course, the morning light which seeped into the concourse was broken up by the shadow of the running teen.

"_Ding-dong!" _ the dreaded bell sounded.

"Attention passengers, attention passengers. A.C. Airlines Flight 412 to Altomaire on Gate Sixty-One is departing now. We have one guest who has not claimed his seat yet; would the passenger make his way toward the gate, which is about to close?" the woman chirped again.

"Hmm! Hm've httph hnng mhm," the boy mumbled with the crumpled, damp boarding pass secured by his clenched teeth. He shook his head a bit, throwing a mess of his white hair to the side, and made the final sprint to the end of the crowded hallway, save for the waiting area at Gate Sixty-One.

_ClompClompClompClompClompClompClomp! _

Sneakers almost flew in a mad gallop to the finish line. Jeans slid down to his thighs and exposed his boxers. Backpack began to toss out a couple pencils in the side pockets. Boarding pass now wet with saliva. Adults still stared and hollered something about slowing down and maturity.

Yet the boy didn't care. Today was going to be his big day; the boy was set to fly off into a new land all alone to take life by its reins and set out his own fortune. He was out there all alone, all right, but the little boy's unbroken hope, his brash ego, his innocent morality, and his own two feet would be there to guide him toward the right path. While he ran, scurrying between the throngs of taller strangers, he couldn't help but wonder about his new life ahead. A shudder of anticipation and excitement and worry coursed through his veins. The little boy would go out into the world on his own. Oh, the people and the places he would see! The things he would do in the new town! He would be his own man, setting out on his wonderful adventure, guided by him and himself alone. The boy would escape his old ugly life and create a new one within hours.

_I'll be my own man; I'll make my own adventure. The past won't bother me anymore. No longer I'll have to suffer in this place. I will be something, and there's gonna be nobody to stop me!_

Golden streams of light fell onto the little boy's white hair, and the sun's blessing shone on his gentle smile. The young, innocent boy, full of life, would find hope in a new world. For what would be there to stop him; what evils could corrupt the sterling-silver soul of his? The idealistic little boy kept dreaming and dreaming, but for now he had to shake out of the reverie. Two hundred feet remained.

_ClompClompClomp!_

Now a hundred. An eraser bounced onto the tiled floor.

_ClompClompClomp!_

The white-haired boy's ravenous gallop accelerated to a mad final sprint while his lungs screamed for air like a jet. Fifty feet to destination. His tired muscles, already worn from running to and fro for _hours _around the gigantic airport pavilions, were now aching and sputtering for oxygen.

_ClompClompClompClomp!_

Only ten more feet left. The boy saw the gate and its desk: the finish line.

_Clomp!Clomp- Wham!_

Hair flew, shoelaces fluttered, and coins bounced out, all the more a marvelously chaotic dance. The boy made a great leap in front of the desk and took out his boarding pass as a gracious ballet dancer would a streamer or baton.

"Hmmhmm! I've made it!" the fifteen-year-old yelled, standing in front of less-than-enthusiastic attendants. An elderly woman snorted and a shorter, stout man harrumphed.

"You must be our dear guest, kid," the chunky man grumbled.

"Yep! I'm just on time," the boy articulated, dropping the sopping boarding pass from his hand and onto the desk with a neat _splat!_

"Disgusting. Don't run and make a scene like you just did there; that's rude and irresponsible. And don't ever do this late arrival thing ever again, you hear? Come early next time mister, uh... Luke." the attendant charged, checking off the soggy ticket. "If you were late by just a few seconds, they would've left without- Hey wait a minute! Come back; stop! You have to show us your passport before you leave, young man!"

"Oh yeah, that. Here it is mister!" the white-haired boy called Luke cheekily replied, flashing him the front pages of his passport he dug out from his pocket before dashing away down the ramp and out to the airfield where the staircase to the plane awaited. A pen dropped to the floor as he made another dash for the plane.

_Plod! Plod! Plod! Plod! Plod! _

The two attendants heard the faint sound of sneakers running down the carpeted ramp to the airfield, then they heard a _Plump! _as Luke mindlessly jumped from the ramp and onto the tarmac, of course believing that stairs took too long to descend.

"Hey wait! You come back here now!" the bulky attendant roared, getting up to run after him before a bony hand grappled his shirt and pulled him back with surprising force.

"Easy there, easy!" the other attendant, the older, calmer lady shushed. "Boys will be boys. He showed us his passport and boarding pass, no?"

"A brief glimpse and a disgustingly soggy piece of paper, but yes," the man huffed, backing down to the senior-in-command. He watched as the boy neatly landed from a two-story jump right onto his feet and rushed toward the awaiting jet. He distastefully wondered why kids like him were so annoyingly energetic. Perhaps, he thought, kids these days played too many video games.

The woman looked straight at the younger man. "Then he's free to go catch his damn plane," she curtly followed, "although I hope he knows where in the flying world he's going to. I have seen thousands of planes leave from this airport, and I've seen many more walk into these gates, yet rarely do I ever see a boy like him, lest a _human, _fly to Altomaire. That kid's got spunk I tell you."

He turned his bald head. "Why's that?" he asked, inexperience and curiosity getting the best of him.

"Well, let's just say... Altomaire isn't a normal place. I mean, it is for some, but not exactly for us people. It's an interesting place, I'd say. Very nice too, with quite friendly inhabitants. Yes, I've been there years ago if you were wondering. Well, at least back in the day things were quite well. Now, though, is another story," the old lady chuckled, pulling back some strands of her whiting hair. "Yet, what's so striking about it is that the people, er, beings there..." the older woman trailed, racking her brain for a suitable answer.

Initial outrage muddled into a hint of concern. "You think that kid probably made a mistake? Should we tell him?" the man replied, glancing out the wide clear windows to see the boy barely make it onto the smaller-sized jet. He saw what seemed to be a stern admonition from a flight attendant, followed by Luke's quick escape into the plane. Old lady gave a chuckle as he noticed the white-haired boy not paying a shred of attention to the poor flight stewardess's message. The jet's fans spun into motion now, and the plane's lights flashed against the morning sky to warn it was about to leave the gate.

The lady deliberately waited several seconds to respond. "Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. I can't tell. He showed us the right boarding pass, though, that's for sure, but something tells me he still doesn't know where he's heading to. Oh, I know he'll be in quite a shock when he arrives. I'll notify Altomaire Regional Airport that another human's coming their way."

"So what's so wrong about this Altomaire town?" the man questioned.

The older lady shuffled a few papers and re-adjusted her white hair around before answering. She huffed, and, before turning around to leave, remarked. "There's nothing wrong. Still, you could say that the town's not _entirely... _how should I say... the same as other places."

"Well, whaddaya mean?"

The wizened lady took another pause and stared into the pudgy man's eyes. "Not everyone there's exactly human."

The man, incredulous and speechless, turned to her to ask _why_, but the attendant already left the desk with her papers. He turned to the window and peered outside toward the small blue jet, ready for taxi and take-off. He refused to believe her word. Yet when he saw the door of the jet closing, just for a brief second he couldn't possibly deny that the pilot, bedecked in a hat and regular aviation uniform, who closed the hatch had the body of a turtle-like creature. He blinked for a couple seconds, but by the time he stared out again, the jet already turned around to take off into spring morning's golden horizon.

* * *

Our story is a frightening twist on the boy-meets-animal-inhabited-town storyline. This is a peek of life through the eyes of a boy in his coming-of-age, a smell at the stenches of corruption and innocence, and a critique on our own morality. I'll be updating a new chapter every week, so stay tuned - I'm not dead yet! By all means, please send in reviews; they help me improve my writing and storytelling, and input is very much appreciated. In fact, I take great interest in any suggestions you all have, so feel free to say anything you think about the story! Anyway, enjoy your reading!

The title was formerly "Boy, Friend, Mayor, and Tyrant". Changed because the new title is a quote relevant in later chapters.


	2. Chapter 2: Not the Wrong Flight

**Not the Wrong Flight**

* * *

His initial excitement and rumpus immediately plummeted to fretful worry as he walked past the stewardess and into the plane.

Luke just couldn't believe his eyes. Never in a million years. He saw, in the airplane cabin, sitting neatly in rows of twos – some sitting up and reading magazines or newspapers and some reclining to nap – dozens and dozens and _dozens _of animals. That's right. He couldn't deny it, having punched himself and blinked furiously a couple times to wave off any suspicions of dreaming.

_Animals._

He could only mutter an incoherent babble of words as he tried, but could not, deny what he saw. "You-you all are... animals?" he gushed – words failed him at this point. He began to feel a bit queasy.

A smartly-dressed flight steward – a monkey – walked over to the boy who clutched a railing in anxiety.

"Sir, are you okay right now?" he asked.

"You talk?!" the bewildered Luke yelled back, amazed and horrified.

"Uh, of course I do."

"And me, I... I'm not dreaming?" Luke whimpered while attracting the humor of a couple nearby passengers.

Porter simply shook his head, remembering all too many of the countless human passengers who experienced astonishment like Luke upon entering a plane to Altomaire. He rubbed his head and patted his blue vest, adjusting his outfit before addressing the white-haired (and white-faced) boy. "Of course you're not, silly. How else can you see this? Here, why don't you pull out your boarding pass."

Luke's face immediately lit up. "Why yes - haha! Now I can prove I'm on the wrong plane and that this is all a silly dream... I bet I'm not even on Gate 61; no, more like Gate 19," he uneasily laughed. "The ticket, the boarding pass must've been upside-down when I read it; oh, silly me!"

He pulled out the crumpled, damp slip of paper from the pocket of his slim jeans and passed it over to the steward who wore a guile of enthusiasm.

Porter looked over the ticket carefully, eyeing each and every box on the paper conspicuously in front of Luke – who he thought was just as mad as all the other human passengers he had met. "Hmm... hmmhmmn... yuup! No mistake here! You're on the right flight, sir, to Altomaire. Now, why don't you take a seat and think this over, ooh?" he suggested.

"B-but, this can't be true! I'm supposed to be on a flight to a town! At least that's what my parents told me..."

"And, to where, ooh?"

"They never said. But see, look! I..." he trailed, but couldn't find the right words to explain.

"Hey kid, why don't you just sit down? You've got the right boarding pass, ooh. Maybe you can talk with your folks when you get at the airport. Just get movin', we got a flight to complete!"

Luke gave a glum sigh of resignation as he accepted the situation. However, he still really couldn't completely grasp the situation. A goat with a sleeveless tee and horn-piercings glanced at him as he mumbled something about "being on the wrong flight". A crocodile wearing a tweed suit and black tie furtively stared at the hastily-dressed boy and grumbled about "youths these days". Luke stared around and viewed the seemingly endless rows of dressed, talking animals until he found his seat, all the way back in row twenty.

"But animals talking and acting like this... how-?" he continued to mumble, this time clutching his white hair anxiously while plopping into the aisle seat. "Why? Why am I here? My boarding pass; it can't be right."

A friendly voice replied from his left. "Ahem; hello there!"

Luke, barely able to control his wits, absolutely lost it now.

"_Gah! _Who are you?!" he shrieked. Irked heads glanced his way. He turned to the left, finding the easygoing grin of a white-and-blue colored talking cat.

"Name's Rover! You don't mind if I sit with you and chat a bit now, would you?" Rover smiled.

"Me?"

"Uh, yes you! Now, what's your name, kid?"

"Kid? Oh, uhm, I'm Luke. I'm a human. You're a cat?" the boy blurted.

"Yes, of course, duhh! Haha! I'm sure you're surprised I can talk to you like this and everything," Rover replied. "So, you're headed to Altomaire, the town with all the animals, right?"

"More animals?! _No! _This can't be..."

_Ding-dong!_

A voice rang over the intercom, interrupting Luke's swarming thoughts.

"Yarr, Ladies and gentlemateys this be 'yer captain speakin'. We want to give 'yer heartiest welcomers to A.C. Airlines flight 412 to lovely Altomaire. My name's Kapp'n and I'll be yer captain; har har! 'Compannyin' me is our trainee flight officer, Pilot – it'll be the first big flight for the kiddo!"

The microphone briefly shuffled and the next voice was the shrill announcement of a youngster.

"Yep, flight duration will be around four, er, five hours, and we're expecting a fairly beautiful flight today. Once again we thank you all for choosing to fly with us and we hope you enjoy the flight!"

_Click!_

"The captain's an animal too?!" Luke gaped in horror as he noticed the plane taking off from the runway. Before he could say another word, he saw the tarmac runway speed away and disappear as the plane flew into the air. He began to feel light-headed as everything – the sky, the flight stewards, and Rover became a blur.

"Well, he's ah, technically a Kappa, which is a bit different, but his first mate's a bird – a jay I believe – if that's what you're – hey! Hello?! Are you okay there, kid?!"

Rover quickly realized the shock must have scared Luke to his wits; the boy fainted and was out, stone cold. He chuckled knowingly as a courier for human visitors for years. He learned to keep his steady smile and amicable demeanor, no matter how crazy the reaction. At least, he thought, fainting didn't involve him getting yelled at like _some _interesting passengers.

He peered out the porthole as the plane punched through the clouds and flew into the blue, sunlit sky, off to Altomaire. Far, far, into the distance, the little airplane went with its passengers and crew, flying away into the ends of the earth (or was it even the same planet?) and into, quite possibly, another realm. For Rover, it didn't matter – today was yet another day of his continually hectic job. He leaned back and waited for the boy to wake up while the jet screamed silently through the calm skies.

...

_nudge _

_poke_

_nudge_

_poke_

Rover sighed and decided he needed to attack a bit more forcefully. He needed to wake up, after all.

_JAB!_

Luke winced in pain, clutching his gut from the forceful punch. "OW!...hunh? Oh, you're still here," he mumbled as he woke from his stupor. Noticing the grinning cat, he looked out the window. He was a little dismayed that the flight was already high in the sky – no chance for him to get off, he mused.

"Yup! You were out cold back there. For a minute, I thought you had a heart attack!" he joked.

"You're still here? But I'm in the wrong flight," Luke noted before looking out the window to see clouds and clear blue skies. "_No! _We're already flying out? Oh no, oh no..." he groaned, burying his head into his hands. He wanted to shrivel up and fly back into time, back where he made the fatal mistake of getting into gate sixty-one. He began to silently curse himself for rushing into things again. "Why me? Oh, stupid me!"

Rover took pity on the boy. "Hey, cheer up kid; the flight won't be too long. Look, I got you some tea from the attendants – here; it'll calm you down," he explained as he handed him a cup of fragrant, hot green tea.

"Tea? For me? You guys drink this stuff too?" Luke questioned as he cautiously took the cup and took a little sip. _Mmm! Soothing. _He thought as he tasted hints of cream and spice. _Might as well help me think a bit more clearly. Maybe even relax and unwind a bit. _He took another sip, this time more vivaciously.

"D'you like the taste? Apparently it's a special herbal blend."

"Oh, yeah, the tea," Luke mumbled as he began to think straight now. "Uh, yeah. I think it tastes pretty good. Thanks, Mister..."

"Don't need to call me that. I'm Rover!" the cat smiled. "You're headed to Altomaire like me, am I right? Just to start off from where we left, y'know."

"Well, yeah, now that you mention it, Rover," he replied while taking another long sip. "I guess this is where I'm supposed to be now. Maybe the ticket's wrong – well, it doesn't seem that way anymore. My parents sent me to this place for me to start out a new life, sort of."

"Sort of, hmm?" the cat smoothly piqued. "Tell me, what's up with that? Just forget about all the other animals around here – myself included. Can you tell me what you're doing, coming alone to a whole 'nother town?"

Luke, now calmed down with the soothing tea, cared little about the other animals. He seemed to forget that just a couple minutes or maybe hours ago he was incoherently babbling about animals on a plane. "Well, Rover, I guess I'm trying to find a new life. My parents thought it'd be a great idea to send me to this town called 'Altomaire'. Said it'd be good for me; I agree too. Gotta start somewhere new, I guess. My old one back at home... well, that's gone now, thankfully."

"Ah, so you're seeking out adventure, huh?" Rover nodded sympathetically. "It's good that you had a little help too. You see, I've been a guide for humans entering our town for some time. I met a couple people like you before. Adventurous kids and all that. Nice to see them come around."

"Uh, well, you see, that's not entirely the case..."

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

Luke remembered an ugly past, but these pains would be no more! No need to talk about them. Or, rather, no need to bring back those painful memories. "Ah, erm, nothing. Nevermind," he dodged.

"Oh... alright then."

"But you're still right; I guess I'm coming here to start out on my own," Luke said before taking the last swig of the green tea. "_Aahh! _That was refreshing. So, Rover, what's Altomaire like?" he wondered, now mostly free from his former crazed self.

"Oh, I'm glad you asked! Our town's a nice little place, with lots of friendly neighbors and some business. Of course, you might've heard that it's all populated with animals – well, maybe there are a couple humans there. But lately, the town's not as hot as it used to be. It's a bit - how should I say - tired."

Luke nodded with solemn understanding, but that little hesitation from Rover didn't do much to dampen his spirits. "So where is this Altomaire?"

"Weelllll, you really can't exactly say 'where'."

Luke inquisitively eyed the blue-and-white cat, who fiddled with his thumbs and tail. "Whatddya mean? Like, is it not on the map or something?"

"You could well say that."

"So is it like an Atlantis or something? On the planet, perhaps?"

"If you put it that way, maybe!" Rover smiled.

Though the tea's effect placated the normally energetic fifteen-year-old, he wasn't too enthralled with Rover's confident, yet troubling, answer.

"Waitwaitwait- you're telling me this town's possibly not even on the planet?"

"I guess if you think that we're in another place – whatchamacallit, another dimension? Then maybe that'd clear things up," he tried to explain.

Luke scratched his head and his mess of hair, trying to rack his brain for an answer or response, but his mind didn't feel like formulating an idea, thanks to the calming effect of his tea.

"Oh well," he grinned. "Sounds like a cool place to me anyway."

"Glad to hear it! Now, what do you plan to do once you arrive?"

Again, Luke tried to think of something to say, but he again couldn't find the right words or even the right idea.

"Hmm... I guess I didn't think of that," he noticed, a bit dismayed. "Looks like I'm going to be doing nothing for a long time there."

Rover took pity on the boy again. "Hey Luke, don't worry; I'll find you something to do. I bet you will be fine once you find a nice job and meet the neighbors; you'll have plenty of things to do! Hopefully you'll stay at the town for a long time, too," he cheerily answered, thinking of just the right person to contact later.

Luke's face immediately brightened up. "You really mean it?! You'll help me out?"

"Hey, hey! I am your courier after all; isn't that why I'm sitting with you? Haha!"

The two smiled at each other. As Rover began to start to explain the wonderful life Luke would have ahead of him with all the animals, the boy began to think a bit more positively through the four-hour-long plane ride. It took a bit of time and quite a bit of careful explaining for Rover, but in time Luke began to realize that the animals were quite normal to him after all. However, the cat refused to tell Luke about one little issue.

"But why won't you tell me about the town? What's there to hide, Rover?" Luke pleaded as he downed another cup of tea, which he began to take a curious liking for. Whatever was in there seemed to calm his nerves effectively.

Still, Rover wouldn't budge. "Well, you see, it's all a surprise! All I can say, though, that what you make out of it is what you get!"

"Oh come on! We've already talked for _hours _about the other animals. Why don't we talk about Altomaire? Don't you live there, huh?"

"Welllll that's something for you to explore on your own!" he vaguely replied.

"So, what am I supposed to do once I get there? Sit on my bottom and smell the roses?"

"If you want."

"Uhm, that's not what I had in mind, actually," the boy blushed while clutching his messy hair. "How about something a little more productive? This isn't going to be much of a vacation."

"Oh, you're one of _those _types," Rover cheerily whistled. "Well, maybe I can get a favor for you then, how about that? You'll have something to do once you get there – oh, don't worry, I can take care of it!"

Luke's face, before placated by the tea, now perked up to a vibrant color. "You mean it? I can get a job or something?"

"Now, now, let's not get hasty!.. Okayy, I'll see what I can do. For now, I know a guy – his name's Nook, Tom Nook – and he can get you started up. I don't know what he's got in mind, now that he takes care of his little rascals Tommy and Timmy, but I'll talk to him and try to find something."

"Really? Thanks! You're the best, Rover!" Luke yelped, almost dropping his cup of steaming tea onto the poor cat's lap.

"Hey, hey! Easy pal! I just said I will talk to him and see what I can find... aw geez! Well, we're almost here, by the way, so remember what I told ya!"

The cat and the human together peered over to the left and gazed out the window, seeing a small town and a little airport come into view. They felt the plane gracefully descend and saw the runway enlarge and the green patches become forests with tall trees while feeling the _bump _of the plane's landing.

"We're here!" Rover announced as he heard the _ding _of the intercom and felt the plane drive over to the little terminal.

"Yar-har! This be 'yer Kapp'n speakin'. We've reached Altomaire Regional Airport jus' right now; time is about a little after lunchtime: 2 PM local," Kapp'n's voice announced. "Once we land into th' terminal entrance, please exit to 'yer left and walk the galley out. Have a nice day, har har!"

_Click!_

As the plane parked into a gate, the passengers began to rise from their seats and pick up their belongings as they filed out of the plane and into the airport – Luke included.

"Hey, thanks for helping me out," Luke said, getting up. "I'm glad you told me about these animals,"

Rover remained seated. "Aww, don't mention it! Glad to be of service."

A grey-colored horse behind impatiently coughed, tacitly ordering Luke to hurry up.

"Right, well I gotta leave now. It's too bad you couldn't tell me about Altomaire, though... anyways, see you around!"

"Goodbye, Luke!" Rover said as the boy walked away. As Luke picked up his backpack, walked through the aisle, and left for the arrivals terminal in the airport, the blue-and-white cat pulled out his phone from his pants pocket to call somebody. However, he first made sure the boy was out of the plane.

_Ring! Ring! _"Hello?... You there? Ah! Glad to hear you're still around! Hey, listen, we've got another human coming to the town... name's Luke. Yeah, of course, he's pretty young... well, I don't know, he didn't tell me! But I've got a feeling he's going to be staying for quite a while... naturally he'd need somewhere to stay, of course... you've got that covered, right?... haha! I knew you'd be dependable as always... alright, see you around."

_Beep!_

Still in his seat, Rover looked out the window as the mass of passengers filed out the door. He glanced out toward the airport entrance and managed to crack a wide smile as he noticed the white-haired boy peer back and wave back as he walked cautiously out of the plane and into the airport, into a new world, and into a new life. He smiled as he wondered what adventures and trials awaited the promising kid. So full of the milk of human kindness and innocence, he seemed. Untouchable and incorruptible by evil, idealistic as ever. Rover was pleased; the little white-haired boy would be but a candle of hope in a tired and weary town.

He was sure the boy would never become a monster like so many other humans he courriered to the crumbling town.

Of course, the cat was also thoroughly relieved he had time to mix in the relaxing sedative into the boy's tea.

* * *

How'd you like the chapter? What do you think will happen to our young hero as he steps into the town of Altomaire? We'll soon find out! As always, reviews and critiques are always welcome. I'd also love to hear any suggestions for the story you all might have, so please review!

Thanks for all the OC submissions, everyone; they were all well-thought out and colorful. Though not all of them will be a super-importantly-major character, they will still be referenced through description and action even if they're not explicitly named. If you still wish to contribute a character, you may still send in a PM, and I will gladly try my best to integrate him/her. Happy reading!

In case you didn't know, the cover photo's a portrait of Luke with his messy white hair and mischievous smile.


	3. Chapter 3: A Delightful Welcome

**A Delightful Welcome**

* * *

"Five hundred bells for _that?!_"

"No, I swear my bags were left there."

"Bathrooms? Ah, yes, over there!"

"Where's the taxi service?"

The bustle and chatter of all the arriving animals flooded the terminal with a noisy buzz. All the passengers, even the slim, rambunctious boy called Luke, made it into the airport and through security without a hitch. As he walked into the central building along with the crowd, he began to realize that maybe Altomaire, with its vibrant animal populace, wasn't so different from his home town at all. Heck, maybe he might even begin to like it here. Luke cracked a smile, slung his stuffed backpack – the only thing he carried with him into this strange land – and made a brisk walk toward the exit. He had an exciting life in front of him.

After exchanging his old money for some currency used here – Bells, as the animals colloquially called it – Luke ran over to the exit of the airport, or for him, the entrance to his new life. Adventures and freedom lay just outside the door! The huge windows of little Altomaire Regional Airport released the flood of the afternoon sun's rays onto the floor, splattering the interior with a golden tinge. His light blue t-shirt became a mirror for the sun and a warming pad for his tummy. Luke paused to look outward into the sky. Amidst the hum of the crowd, he felt an exciting mixture of adventure and peace and anticipation and everything in between.

"Maybe Rover was right," he mused. "Maybe I'm going to really like this place. Wonder what's in store for me here..."

He sat down on a nearby bench, dreaming of all the excitement he'd have. He dreamed of a happy future, a life filled with fun and exhilaration. He dreamed of meeting new friends and finding new adventures.

He dreamed to leave behind gloomy memories of his past.

However, Luke's reverie was abruptly cut short.

_Clod! Clod! Clod! Clod!_

"Hmm? Who's that?" he asked himself.

A pounding of boots grew louder and louder. Startled, Luke swiftly turned around to see two dogs run toward him, one in front of the other.

The first, a tall German Shepherd dressed in royal blue uniform, briskly jogged over and towered over the boy. "Hey! You there, white-haired denizen! You are formally under arrest for failure to exhibit proper documentation," he sharply charged. "It is necessary that you come with us immediately."

Luke was absolutely startled, and frankly, he was a bit terrified by the domineering presence of the police officer - especially with his truncheon. "Wha-what? I just got here; you're saying that you're arresting me already?!"

The second, a portly bulldog, arrived, huffing and puffing. "Er, uhm, yes. It's uh, required by law..."

"We have received special orders from Town Ordinance in conjunction with a notice sent by the airport you departed from," the taller (and much more muscular) canine barked. "You must immediately come with us, understand? We shall depart for the police station now."

"But what did I do wrong?" Luke pleaded.

"Uh... we don't really know (sorry)," the bulldog mumbled.

"Mayor Tortimer's orders, Booker," the German Shepherd added with a stare of disdain toward his partner. "All long-term arrivals must have completed proper paperwork and documentation, and you, sir, have clearly failed to do so."

"Hey, wait a minute!" the boy protested. "I just arrived here; I even showed my ticket to the airport crew – you can't do this!"

Booker uncomfortably shifted his navy blue shirt and whispered to his partner. "The kid, uh, I guess he's got a bit of a point... I think. They didn't do this before... Hm, you think he's uh, right, Copper?"

Copper looked into the distance outside the huge windows for a brief moment, but he refused to change his resolve. Orders were orders. He glanced disapprovingly, and then he went on to face the flabbergasted Luke. "Sir, you must come now, regardless of the situation presented. I am not a tinkerer of the law; I only enforce it. My orders are directly delegated from Mayor Tortimer. Now, come, off we go to the police office; we shall address the issue immediately once we arrive," the tall dog spoke with sharp eloquence.

"What law?!" Luke frustratingly questioned. "What do you mean I'm arrested? I showed everyone the right stuff like these other guys," he continued, pointing to practically every animal around.

"Uhm, kid, you shouldn't be arguing-"

"I can because I'm right," he snapped angrily. "I arrived here, I showed my ticket and passport, and I even wrote down everything correctly. No one ever told me about this stupid paperwork and arrivals thing – show me the other animals who've done it! Can't you guys give me a break?"

Copper reached for his truncheon in anticipation. Booker realized the situation and readied (trying not to fumble) a pair of handcuffs. Animals all around steered clear of the flustered boy.

"Sir, I am warning you-"

"This isn't right at all; it's injustice. An outrage!"

"Uhm, (I think) you really should cooperate, you know."

"I'm not going to work with you crooks; I'm getting out of here," Luke muttered, angrily storming off for the exit. "I've done everything right; you can't arrest me for that!"

In approximately two seconds, he regretted making that decision and failing to control his outburst.

"Get down on the ground, now!" Copper barked, this time without the officious tone.

Luke hurriedly started to run away, sprinting away from the two uniformed dogs. He noted that, seeing that the dogs were larger than him, they were probably faster as well. He turned around and took five steps away toward the big doors until-

_SLAM! _

_Whump!_

"_Mmmph!" _

The muscular canine had already tackled, landing neatly on top. He pinned the slim boy down and ripped away the backpack from him, rendering him completely immobile.

"And stay down! Don't you dare get up! Booker, secure him."

"...ugh," Luke grumbled.

_Clliiickk! _Went the metal handcuffs as Booker secured them around Luke's wrists.

"Um, yeah. Just listen to us next time, okay? We really don't want to do this... (yeah)," the chubby officer mumbled as he hoisted Luke up and escorted him outside – to another exit.

"Hey, wait a minute, what are you two doing? You can't just do this to me like that; I got here legally, fair and square. What's wrong with you?" Luke continued while struggling to break free of an iron grip, attracting the ire of some passers-by.

"Tch! Delinquent kids," a lizard noted.

"Shame on that guy."

"Good thing Copper and Booker did their job."

He wanted to turn around and shout something back, but tough and persistent paws prevented him, instead guiding him to a small hallway and a back exit. There was no big window or a clear, sun-filled sky, just a dark, underground garage with a black-and-white vehicle parked.

"You'll be answering a lot of questions today, son," said Copper before pushing Luke into a backseat. He tossed his backpack into the trunk, and then he let Booker in before driving off out into the small road leading to the town. The black car zoomed away from the little airport, speeding toward the town with one of the very few human arrestees.

"_Hmph,_" the white-haired boy exhaled, now sitting in the black seat of a police car, his hands locked behind his own back. "I thought I was going to start an adventure or something here."

"You can do what you wish once we deal with you," Copper sharply barked. "However, your misconduct has only made matters worse. Consider your little _outburst _reasonable grounds for a criminal indictment."

"But that's-!"

"Uh, Luke..." followed Booker, "...I also advise you to be quiet (please?)"

"I-_hmph_," Luke mumbled in acquiescence. "Looks like you guys are trying to silence me too."

Thankfully, the dogs chose to ignore him, instead focusing on the small road leading into Altomaire. Delinquents were rare, and humans were rarer still. Either way, Copper wasn't very pleased with having to deal with both at the same time. He gave a sharp sigh, acknowledging that he'd be spending his precious afternoon dealing with the tick-box bureaucracy, an uptight mayor, and yet another disorderly youngster. Booker, too, shared these unpleasant anticipations, yet this portly officer wondered if Luke might have been right – after all, for what reason would Tortimer dole out such an ostentatious order?

"You know, uh, if you could kinda cooperate with Mayor Tortimer... I guess, uh, he would let you off the hook (I hope)," Booker mumbled to Luke.

"For what, a tiny _fee_?" Luke spat, catching something amiss from the officer.

Copper pretended not to hear, ostensibly paying more attention to the road.

The boy looked outside the tinted windows, eyeing green hills, lush forests, crystal streams and blue skies. Outside of the car, the world of Altomaire seemed fancifully beautiful. A dream, almost. _What a nice welcome here. Great way to start out a new life: in a police car, waiting to get booked. Ironic, isn't it_? he wondered in his head. Luke gave a dejected sigh, letting his messy hair flop down onto his eyeline as he saw buildings come into view and animals walking around.

_**Welcome to the Town of Altomaire! **_a small wooden sign flashed as the police car zoomed by. The narrow road gave way to a slightly larger street, leading straight to the column-trussed Town Hall. This was the first stop, the porte d'entrée for every new citizen. However, unlike most newcomers, Luke would have to take a stay in the police office first.

_A lovely welcome indeed, _Luke thought as the car stopped and Copper signaled him to get up and out.

...

The clock on the wall ticked three o' clock exact as Luke was escorted into the little police station. Crumbling and chronically understaffed, the grey-walled station was a tiring reminder to Copper and Booker about their personal distaste for their jobs. At the very least, crime was low, and the small holding cells usually remained empty, their bars rusted with years of disuse.

Today would be the exception.

"You will be waiting here until we receive word from Town Hall, Mayor Tortimer and Mr. Cinder especially, to allow us to investigate the matter," Copper briskly announced while pushing Luke inside a musty cell. The boy gave up resistance and walked in hands-behind-back without a struggle. "We shall notify you as soon as they arrive."

_Clang! _

The barred door slammed shut before the canine locked it and strutted out. He walked away, leaving Luke to sit on the cold metal bench until he (hopefully) returned within a couple hours.

"Please don't make more trouble, okay?" Booker faintly told Luke down the hall before walking out behind his partner.

"Yeah. I won't; just please come back soon," the little white-haired boy asked dejectedly. Sitting on the bench and facing a row of browned bars, he gave a long sigh, wishing he controlled his temper and followed the tired-looking officers sooner. A little window high on the cracked cement wall let in a small stream of light, letting Luke to see his surroundings and, if he stood on his toes, a delicious glimpse of the outside world: freedom. He wondered about arriving normally like every other boy or girl Rover told him about, entering through the gate and talking to a sweet pelican lady named Pelly and receiving a nice home of his or her own. Luke gave a laugh, contemplating about his happy situation here in a tiny, damp cell.

Yet he still couldn't give up one thought lodged in his mind. "But they can't just do that, can they? I mean, I arrived here legally, and I even showed everyone..." he mumbled. "Stupid town rules," he scowled, kicking the bench's metal floorboard with his foot and a _clang!_

This time a voice, not his own, responded.

"Heh heh. Gotta admit, some of these rules are pretty pointless – wouldn't you agree?" it – and from the tone, a male's – responded with a snicker.

"Who're you, another officer?" Luke scowled.

"Of course not, doofus, I'm right across from you," he responded.

A dark figure rose from its bench on the opposite-side cell. The figure came closer, revealing itself to Luke as it walked over and stood just right behind its barred cell door. The figure stooped a bit as it stood before giving a mischievous smirk. "Name's Isaac. Glad to see another human in town. What great luck to find him sitting in jail with me."

Luke was surprised. He saw the figure, a slightly-older boy with dark, unruly brown hair and an equally unruly grin. Another human? And here too?

"You're-"

"That's right, kid. A living human, sixteen years of _marvelous_ age, in the flesh," he remarked as he attempted to adjust his dark red beanie covering his hair in vain; his hands were cuffed too.

"My name's not kid..."

"You're younger than me; I know already, so shut it," he coldly snapped. "Before you yammer on, I already know you; your precious name is Luke and you're here because of old Tortimer's paperwork law. I heard from that blubbering excuse of an officer called Booker. Congratulations on arriving so smoothly."

The white-haired boy was about to retort against the dark-haired teen, but he immediately thought better, remembering his small consequence for retaliating against the truncheon-and-handcuff wielding officers.

"So why are _you _here then?" Luke calmly inquired.

"Hmph. Funny you should ask. Shouldn't you already know me? Oh, well, since you don't already live here, I might as well tell, Lukey."

Lukey? _This Isaac guy is getting on my nerves_, he thought. _Better not say anything wrong though; he looks pretty tough..._

"Um, okay," Luke replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Alrrighty then, Lukey. Here's a touching story. Once upon a time, I robbed that Nookling store and I had the bad luck to get caught by Copper and I got thrown in here again. The end."

"You, _what?!_" Luke yelped, jumping from the bench.

"You heard. They nabbed me just as I was about to get away with some sweet-looking TVs and tables."

"How could you take all that heavy stuff at once?"

"You are a real low-watt bulb, aren't ya, kid?" the dark-haired teen in the black hoodie sneered.

"Hey! You're not saying I'm stupid..?" Luke charged, advancing to the front of his own cell. The older teen hardly budged an inch; instead, he leaned against the grey wall and shot a dangerous grin at the fuming boy.

"You don't even know the leaf storage system, do you? That's how I nabbed all the tanooki's loot. Light as a feather."

"So you just came in and stole a guy's stuff? Serves you right for sitting in here."

"One, he's a shopkeeper, so it doesn't even matter," Isaac shrugged, adjusting his black hoodie. "Two, why don't you take a good look at yourself, kid? Lying around in this dump, handcuffed and locked up until who-knows-when those cops return. And yes, I'll be sitting right here across from you whether you like it or not, so I _strongly recommend _you start shutting up," he sharply added.

Luke gave a _hmph! _of disgruntlement, a turn of his back to signal apparent disinterest. He sat back down on the cold steel bench, staring at his shoes – but more so away from the older teen's daring smirk. Waiting in the cell's squalor, in his mind he laughed about his good fortune so far, from arriving to the plane late, to getting arrested, and to meeting the only human, a boy barely older than him yet a criminal, here in the middle of nowhere.

Hours passed, and the piercing sunlight had now turned into a dark shade of gold. Neither boy spoke to each other until-

_Hauck! Cough! _

A raspy cough from the opposite side broke the silence.

Isaac tried to clear his throat. "Mmph. Ugh, this hole. So damp and nasty. Not good for my asthma-_Cagh! Hackth!"_

Luke wanted to feel pity for him, but he just couldn't find that feeling. He kept staring down at his shoelaces, waiting and waiting, anxiously hoping for time to flow faster and for Copper and Booker to return as the dark-haired boy coughed on. The trickle of light from the little window above turned into a golden orange while the sun began to fall in the late afternoon. A new life and adventure lay just outside the rusty bars – how he wanted to just walk out a free person!

More hours passed. Luke gave a grumble as the late afternoon matriculated into dusk.

While sitting on the bench, twiddling his thumbs behind his back, Luke remembered Booker's mumbling during the car ride and noted the fact that Isaac wasn't in prison or anything. He wondered if that so-called "cooperation" Booker mentioned had something to do with it.

Luke got up and walked over to the bars, spotting the older boy. "Hey Isaac," he started, grabbing his attention, "how exactly _did _you get out of jail the last time?"

The teen with the wild dark hair and olive-toned skin smiled. "So you do know that I've got tricks up my sleeve. Clever boy. Lukey, there's no point in hiding anything, so here's a bit of juicy advice I'm gonna share with you," he replied. "Once old Tortimer and his police attaché arrive, you might want to curry a little favor with them all, especially the police... even though they do their job pretty well, they aren't too keen on going through the trouble of bringing people to court and stuff."

"You're saying..."

"I'm saying that if you give them a little push, a little... _incentive_ to let you leave, they'd take up the offer. Maybe they'll drop all charges; who knows?"

The white-haired boy shifted uncomfortably again, shuddering in his light blue tee. "How do you know this works?"

"Why else do you think I'm still around in Altomaire? Though of course, I do make enough Bells – some way or another – to recuperate losses..."

Luke shuddered at the thought, knowing exactly what he meant. "Thanks, I guess..." he murmured, turning back to his seat.

"Anytime, Lukey," Isaac responded.

The younger boy winced. "I still hate that name."

"More the reason to keep using it," the older one shrugged.

Eager to shift the conversation elsewhere, Luke immediately asked another question. "Heeyyy, Isaac, I've seen a lot of animals here-"

"Well of course, idiot. They don't nickname Altomaire the 'Crossing for Animals' for nothin'."

"Haha, got to agree with that," the boy nervously chuckled, "But are there any _humans _living around these parts? Besides you and me, of course."

Isaac absentmindedly looked upward, trying to rack his brains for something. "Weeelll, there's this grouchy-looking lady named Verity – tried to stop me from stealing one time – and... hey, this reminds me of something!" he gleefully beamed.

Curiosity got the best of Luke. "What is it?!"

"There's a girl here too. Your age."

"Hunh?"

"Did I stutter? Is the mere phrasing of 'girl' enough to excite you, you poor thing?"

"Uh, I guess not, and- hey wait a minute!"

"Hehheh! Thought so. Her name's Charlotte or something. Works at some gardening store. Kinda small, looks a bit like you."

"Hmm? What do you mean by that?"

The older teen immediately grinned and cackled, his jet black hoodie shaking in broiling laughter. "Dopey face and silly hair and all that! Haha, you were so intrigued by it all; what a loser! Probably still virgin too. Hah! Charlotte and Luke-y, sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g~..."

The boy had enough of the snarling teen's torments. Luke yelled angrily, kicking the bars with a _clang! _and shaking off a bit of peeling rust. But in that moment for a split second, ugly memories from the past – his old life in the academy – revived. A very strange feeling of anger, alien to the boy, suddenly rose in tired cacophony.

"Shut up, Isaac! Just please, stop it!"

Shocked and slightly ashamed, Isaac absconded. "Okay, okay. Hey-hey, chill, man. Aw, I wasn't too serious now, was I?"

Luke mumbled a bit and returned back to the cold metal bench, lying down and waiting for it all to be over. He sighed, shaking his head and resting his eyes. Hours would pass by, and the incessant attacks would sometimes arise, but oftentimes the little boy would refuse to respond. Instead, he patiently and tiredly waited for someone to pass by and free him to let him finally begin his life rightfully in the town.

After what seemed like an eternity, a thudding of boots rounded a corner along with a plodding of a cane and the heavy steps of another animal.

Isaac turned back to his seat as well, returning to little more than a dark figure obscured by shadow. "Looks like you've got company. Remember what I've told you. Oh, and most importantly, one last word."

Luke annoyedly asked back. "What's that?"

"Don't forget to show these guys a fat wallet."

Luke grimaced at the idea, yet he nonetheless accepted it.

The thuds and clomps turned around the corner, eventually arriving at Luke's cell. The dull plodding of a wooden cane droned on until, stopping right in front of the bars, an old, bearded tortoise bedecked in a top hat addressed him. The dim jail lighting in the dark of the night obfuscated Luke's view; he could only see the tortoise's cold, unflinching eyes and the heavy oaken cane as it tapped one of the rusty cell bars.

"You must be Luke," he slowly remarked while looking straight, contemptuously, into the young boy's eyes. "I have heard interesting news about you, youngster."

* * *

Note: The exchange rate from Bells to Japanese Yen is purportedly a one-to-one ratio, meaning that for our story's purposes a hundred Bells is worth about one US Dollar. Although holistically the items' values in the games tend to contradict real life (a fruit costs about the same as a pair of pants which in turn is sold for half the price of a table!) I'll try to keep prices and other numbers a bit more realistic in the story.

Hope this clears things up for future chapters, and as always, happy reading!


	4. Chapter 4: Just Usual Business

**Just Usual Business**

* * *

The rusted doors opened with a loud _creak! _as Copper struggled to push them open. Midnight cast its dark veil over the little town of Altomaire, and as such, the dinky police station was completely darkened save for a few dim, burned out light bulbs here and there. The moldy and damp smell, Luke noticed, somehow became more pungent than ever. Though the boy was still handcuffed (now for close to eight hours), wrists sore and arms cramped, he was glad to finally escape the tiny cell and his roguish neighbor across.

"Leaving jail early, Lukey?" the older teen with the wild hair sneered. Luke saw only his piercing brown eyes through the thick darkness of the night. Even Isaac's presence alone was intimidating; though he was only but a year or two older, he set a tinge of fear and discomfort throughout Luke as the younger boy left the cell. Luke was just glad to leave.

The younger boy winced again at the name. "Yeah. I'm getting out of here, uh, so long Isaac," he stumbled.

"Hmph," Isaac grunted. "Was nice knowing you. Little kids like you don't come to this crummy town that often..."

Luke wanted to retort – he didn't want to be called a little kid – yet he remained silent, knowing that such retaliation would most likely warrant little more than a sneer and another rude insult.

"Quiet! You are to remain silent, Isaac!" Copper barked. Escorting the old tortoise was among the least of his priorities, and the fact that he had to work late only aggravated him further, dangerously beyond his usual polite-but-stern demeanor.

Isaac dared to incense him further. "Working late today, pal? Where's Booker? Oh! Right; he gets the night shift off now. Tough luck, Copper," the teen scoffed.

"Isaac..." Luke warned - to no avail though.

"I repeat; quiet!"

The rogue disregarded the command. "Y'know, you cops should keep an eye on Lukey. Kid's a fighter. Well, he's not the sharpest nail in the box, but he's a real-"

The muscular canine angrily cut him off. "That will be enough now."

Brandishing a heavy truncheon, Copper stared into the dark cell with bloodshot eyes, but he did little besides muttering angry growls, for Tortimer's iron gaze watched him carefully.

"Leave the whippersnapper alone. We'll deal with his _audacity _later," the tortoise commanded with cold authority.

Frustrated as he was, Copper knew not to defy the mayor. He resigned with nothing beyond an affirmative "yes sir."

"I do believe we have unattended business to work with, however," Tortimer continued, relaxing his stare. "Let's go now; we'll resolve the matter in the office. Copper, bring this boy along. We'll deal with his actions in the most appropriate manner."

"Yes sir," he replied. In the distance, hidden by the darkness, Isaac made no effort to conceal a chuckle.

Between the irate police officer, the inimical mayor, and the snarling teen, Luke wasn't sure who to stand near to. Though now the tiny, musty cell block was cramped with the bodies of four, Luke felt totally alone, fearful and doubting. Now out of the chamber, but still in the confines of the dimly-lit station, he clutched the cold, rusty bars behind his back, clinging onto a sad excuse for security. He wished to get out of this place as soon as possible.

"Uhm, where would we be going?" Luke timidly asked, looking up to the towering canine.

"That is none of your business," Copper snapped. "We will first-"

"We aren't going anywhere until we settle this," Tortimer impatiently cut off. "Any more questions, child?"

"N-No..."

"Then we leave now. Copper, let's go. Leave the ruffian here for the night."

Copper saluted. "Yes sir!" he answered, pulling Luke along. The tortoise walked slowly out the door and into a small office with the dog and the boy following right behind. Pushing the white-haired boy firmly into the room, Copper then stared back at the defiant teen.

"...I'll be dealing with you later," he spat to Isaac with unusual viciousness in his voice.

The darkness obscured the teen's shudder. He did have a genuine fear for both Tortimer and Copper, yet he was careful to act as though he didn't – years of conniving talking did the trick. "Looking forward to it. 'Later Copper. You too Lukey," he casually remarked as Copper closed the office door with an angry _slam!_

And now, Isaac was alone, stuck for yet another night in the dinky, rotting cell. He had been in here, all right, for many days after many failed robberies. He was used to the bureaucratic blabbering of Tortimer, the useless yammering of Booker, and the toughie talk from Copper. Yet today, he thought he really met someone who didn't immediately shun him out. Somebody who, though knowing his less-than-sterling history, continued to talk with him as if he was a normal person. Maybe something was a bit different about this kid, maybe he was a bit more understanding than everyone else who shunned him? Naive, yes, but maybe a bit more...

Isaac sneered and snorted in his thoughts. _Whatever. I'm a tough guy, not like that softie Luke. Total idiot he is. Well... he might've been the first not to try to spit on me or gloat over anythin'._

...

"Do you remember what you did to our poor town policemen, Booker and Copper?" Tortimer grilled Luke. The tortoise faced the boy, both sitting across from each other around a small police table in the cramped office. Copper stood tiredly from the side, downing another mug of black coffee and silently griping about the day's inconveniences just as the clock struck eleven.

Luke blushed in hot embarrassment. "Er..." he began, twiddling his (still handcuffed) hands behind his back.

"Does your memory fail you, kiddo?" he slowly asked.

"Well, no, but I don't think..."

"Go on," Copper commanded.

"I just don't think it was that much of a big deal."

Tortimer's face began to curl itself into a tight frown. Did he say the wrong thing? However, he soon immediately began to crack up, raucously laughing and chuckling.

"OHohOH! HahaHa! Ahaha- _COUGH COUGH – _heh horf_– _erHERM! Oh dear me; you really think so? Allow me to correct you with witness evidence, whippersnapper!" he chuckled, pulling out a bulging manila file of papers. "Let's see now... yep, an act of disturbing the peace, resistance from arrest, assault, refusing to pay fines, among others."

Luke's face was paralyzed in shock and anger. "Assault?! How? If you're looking to book someone for assault, just turn your old head toward that _officer_ over there!" he snapped, jerking his head toward Copper.

"Listen, kiddo," Tortimer continued while paying no heed to the boy's frustration. "I've got the whole incident on file right here in my hand, and you're definitely guilty of each and every charge! Guilty, guilty, and guilty, ho ho!" he smiled dangerously as he pulled out copious sheets of papers in front of Luke.

The white-haired boy could not believe his eyes. Dozens of papers with different charges all pinpointed him. Numerous sheets filled with lines, boxes, and signatures all verified allegations of (as Tortimer mentioned) disturbing the peace, resisting arrest, refusing to pay fines, and, most seriously, assault. Flipping through the stack of stapled and paperclipped sheets, Tortimer exhibited each and every official paper and piece of evidence, ranging from police logs to grainy photos from Altomaire Regional Airport's security camera – that, of which, showed a slim boy running away from two dogs in police attire and... stopping to punch them?

Luke was dumbfounded. He never attacked the pair – he was sure of it. Was this "evidence" fabricated?

"Those pictures, they're-"

"Undeniable pieces of evidence. And you're in them, too."

"But I never did that! They're all lies! Well, at least a lot of these are!" he started, getting up from his chair.

"Siddown," Copper blankly commanded while pushing the boy back into his seat.

"Now, as I was saying, the current evidence gathered by our wonderful police officers seems to point the guilt toward you. Correct?" the bearded tortoise continued, smiling coldly toward the restrained boy.

"You..! You can't do this, it's just not right."

"Prove me wrong," Tortimer challenged.

"I'm telling you the truth; I didn't attack Copper at all," Luke pleaded. "Look, I'll admit I didn't listen to Copper and Booker when they asked me to come with them; I got scared and ran away. That was wrong, and I'm sorry. But I'm telling you,_ I did nothing beyond that._"

The old tortoise waved a hand in dismissal and continued. "So, judging from what I'm lookin' at, I think we're going to see several months of jail time, maybe community service, heck, if this is all true – which of course it is – then maybe you're looking at up to a year, ruffian."

A streak of sudden horror began to emerge from Luke, and an inaudible cry of anguish escaped from his breath. He didn't do anything wrong; a whole year? Most of these allegations seemed to be exaggerated and sloppily supported, and he didn't even mention a court or jury or any iota of justice: just plain "evidence" to lead him to his condemnation. But a whole year – why?

Luke stared "Mr. Tortimer, I'm really sorry. I promise, just don't... I just arrived, can you please-"

Tortimer cut him off again. "Sorry isn't going to cut it. Your sentence, however, will."

"Can't you at least let me explain things?"

"I've reviewed all things I need. Starting in three days, I think you can start enjoying your 'new life', kiddo. Heh heh horf!"

Luke was devastated. He didn't know what to do or say; the old tortoise refused to budge, and a grim truth dawned upon the young boy. _I'm going to go to jail. I'm a convict!_

"Isn't there something I can do?" Luke pleaded. Yet what could he do?

Tortimer shifted his gaze a bit, thinking of something vague. "Well, there might be something you _could _do to lessen the sentence, _per se_."

At that moment, Luke remembered an odd comment from Booker during the police car ride and an off-handed remark from Isaac. _Cooperation, a fee, a fat wallet? _

The white-haired boy then realized what Tortimer had subtly implied all along. _Of course. It's plain and simple what he wants!_

Luke shifted in his seat and addressed the mayor. "Mr. Tortimer, if I may, I think I have an idea to do just that."

The tortoise relaxed his steel gaze and furrowed his eyes into a questioning stare. "What is it you want, boy? More evidence?"

"No, no. Not that; instead, I've got something better. A _proposal_, in fact."

Copper stopped sipping his third mug of coffee and straightened up; he instinctively knew what was about to happen. Yet he said nothing, knowing Luke wasn't the first to set up such a proposal. The clock ticked eleven-thirty, and the rotting, moldy stench grew more pungent.

"And that is?" Tortimer curiously asked.

"Well, how about I find a little way to lessen the sentence... you know, an _incentive_,"

"I think I'm getting to see what you mean. Go on,"

"Well first, I need to show you what I mean. As in, I need to move my hands around to demonstrate," Luke said, wriggling his handcuffed wrists.

"Ah, I completely understand," the bearded tortoise responded, this time more softly. "Copper, unlock the young lad's cuffs, will you please?"

The tall police dog did as he was told, bringing out the jangling keys from his pocket and soon freeing the boy's hands with a _click! _of a key.

"Free at last..." Luke murmured while tenderly rubbing his red, aching wrists.

"Anyways, you were saying?" Tortimer enthusiastically inquired.

Luke gulped a lump in his throat. "How about I pay you a couple Bells to ease the sentencing?"

"Ho ho, youngster. How much are you talking?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. I don't think I've brought too much," Luke murmured, but, seeing Tortimer's gaze harden again, he quickly added. "But whatever your price is, I'll follow."

"Well, that's good to hear. I believe... we can settle a couple months off for a mere thirty thousand Bells. Heck, maybe with a little more I can let you walk off free! Heh heh horf!"

_Thirty thousand?! Just for a couple months? That's quite a lot... _Luke wondered. _But what about the full sentence..?_

The white-haired boy's curiosity now got the best of him. "What's your price for getting out of the whole sentence?"

"Oh-HO! An intriguing youngster you are. Lemme give you a question first."

Luke was perplexed by this sudden change. "Uhm, okay."

"Now, out of these folks, who do you respect the most: your father, your mother, your grandmother, or your grandfather?" Tortimer cheerfully asked.

He was completely caught off guard, but, noticing the cunning tortoise in front of him, he sought to find the best answer. "Huh? Oh, I guess my grandfather I suppose – yeah, I respect my grandfather the most!"

Tortimer's face immediately brightened up to a light hue of green. "Now that's the spirit, youngster! That's an answer I like to hear! Tell you what, since I think you've got some good knowledge in that head of yours – even though that ruffian Isaac says otherwise – I'll lower my asking price out of some respect; I like this new generation."

Copper rolled his eyes (but made sure the mayor, his boss, wouldn't notice). He impatiently took a peek at the clock, which now struck eleven forty-five.

"So, for a mere fine, I'll lighten the sentence – actually, in fact, I'll _erase it completely_."

"Really?! You would?" Luke gleamed.

"Heh horf! Of course. Ninety thousand Bells. Up front, if you'd please."

Luke was shocked. _Ninety thousand?! That's everything I brought!.. but I don't want to land in prison either. _He then realized the grim truth. _It's a bribe, extortion, a scandal! Tortimer didn't fabricate the evidence to jail me... he just wanted my dirty money. If that's what the crook wants, he can get it then. _

Darkness and stench seemed to creep into the tiny police office by the minute. The thin boy composed himself and looked straight toward the mayor, smiling without a real smile. "Yes; definitely. I think I've got it in my bag – Copper has it, I believe – but it's all I've got."

"Copper, bring the youngster's bag right away!" Tortimer immediately hollered to the tired police officer. A "yes sir" rang through the room, and no sooner did the canine return with Luke's bulging backpack.

Tortimer greedily pried away the bag and spilled out its contents from a pocket, dumping out stacks of Bell notes (all of which were imprinted with his portrait) and hastily pushing back in mixed clothes and items.

"Yessir indeed! Now let's check... twenty thousand, forty thousand, sixty thousand, eighty thousand, and ninety thousand! Here we are. Ninety thousand to the exact!" he merrily whistled, licking his finger and flipping through the stacks of Bells.

Luke watched in relief and dismay. _He took all my savings; how am I going to live here? At least I'm not in jail anymore..._

"Is everything all right? Are we good now?" Luke weakly asked, his white hair flopping down beneath his eyes.

"Why, yes of course dear child!" Tortimer gleefully exclaimed while pocketing the ninety thousand Bells. "Oh, and by-the-by, I don't think we'll be needing this anymore," he cheered, tossing the whole manila folder of accusations and evidence right into a trashcan.

_And there goes that, _Luke noted.

The old tortoise got up from his seat and walked across the creaky floorboards toward Luke. "Oh! And, please excuse my manners; I'll bet you haven't eaten all day. What a shame!" he cried, poking the slim boy hard in the stomach with his cane. _Jab! Jab! Jab!_

"Ouch!" Luke yelped, wincing.

"Copper; bring the child something to eat at once!" he commanded. "And, by the way, I think this would be a good time to discuss your situation; I do believe you will need a place to live heh horf!"

Copper rose and opened a drawer, taking out a small package and walking over to a little microwave. "On it, sir," he dutifully replied.

_What an interesting shade of emotions. All changed with the simple exchange of a couple thousand bells, _Luke noted in his mind – he dared not mutter anything, lest he receive more incriminating "evidence" and accusations from the mayor.

"Yes, very good. Now tell me, youngster, where do you plan to stay?"

Though he was free from the restrictive cuffs, Luke still shifted uncomfortably. "Well, see Mr. Tortimer, that's sort of the issue; I've got nowhere to live. I heard from Rover-"

"Ah yes; Rover! A wonderful fellow."

"-that a certain Mr. Tom Nook sells houses here. But it seems a bit too late to go there right now," Luke discontentedly noted, eying the wall clock strike just past midnight.

"Oh, I'm very sure we can work around that! I can make a few calls for a whippersnapper like you. Oho! Here's your dinner, eat up; you need to grow!" Tortimer cheerily announced as Copper returned with a steaming bowl of soup. "Enjoy your meal. Heh heh horf! Though next time you should go to the Oceanridge Diner; they've got better food than this little dump!"

Copper pretended not to notice and politely presented the hot bowl onto the table in front of Luke. Vegetable soup with noodles. Not bad for a microwavable meal.

"Thank you Mr. Tortimer!" Luke graciously replied.

"Not a problem at all! Now hurry up and eat; it's going to get cold on you."

The white-haired boy happily obeyed, hungrily slurping up the noodles and greedily devouring the soup's vegetables. Luke quickly ate up every drop of the soup – he remembered that he hadn't eaten anything since a hasty meal of toast right before he left for the flight to Altomaire. During his meal he heard a prattling from Tortimer, the tortoise's mouth rambling ceaselessly like a windmill on vague topics from the town's beautiful spring foliage to the fact that in Altomaire meat-eating was a taboo analogous to cannibalism. Somehow, each topic he spoke about always ended up in some subtle form of self-praise.

"...Anyhoo, back to the topic of your housing situation," the bearded tortoise rambled. Upon this issue, however, Luke perked up from his now-finished meal.

"I can buy a house?" Luke asked after slurping up the last noodle.

"Luckily, we have one property available. It used to be owned by the HHA – the Happy Home Academy or some newfangled company like that – and I think it'd be the perfect home for you! It's a thing of a beaut, on the oceanfront – a little small yet nice and cozy. It hasn't been touched for years, but I'm sure a whippersnapper like you would love it! Heh heh horf!"

"But how can I live there if I've got, er... insufficient long-term funds?" the boy asked, carefully wording his question so as not to upset the iron-fisted mayor.

"Oh, don't worry about that kiddo; whatever money you have left you can use as down payment, and then you can work your way out of it."

_But I have nothing left. That old tortoise just took – no, he extorted – away all I had to live on. _

"Yeah, I'm sure," Luke weakly nodded.

"Wonderful! In fact, I think the HHA agent to assist you whom I just called is coming right now- aha! There she is! Good evening, Miss Marón!"

The creaky door to the police office opened, letting the cool spring air fill the musty interior. In came a woman, a tired one – though with the passion of life still in her eyes, clad in a skirt and the vibrant red jacket of an office worker. With steady strides she walked into the office, greeting the mayor and the police officer. All eyes averted toward her.

"Good to see you, Mr. Tortimer and Copper. Might I ask why you ask me to come at this late hour?" she demanded.

"You're a human?" Luke abruptly blurted. All eyes shifted toward the white-haired boy.

The scarlet-haired lady gave a faint, knowing smile. "Is this the child you discussed about, Mr. Tortimer?" she inquired.

"Of course; who else? He's the one that needs a new home – I can entrust you with the task of course. Take him to the house in acre D-4, the one overlooking the sea. I expect you to bring him safely and without delay," he stated, handing the woman a key. "When you arrive there, hand this to the boy. I also expect that you arrange the paperwork and estate mortgaging for him as well, of course!"

"This lady's going to get me a house of my own?" the little white-haired boy dreamily responded.

The lady in the red jacket smiled to Luke. Though she spoke in short, reticent sentences, she took every effort to display her emotions by other means. "Yes I am. Please, call me Verity. Come on, it's quite late; let's get going to your new home. Now, what's your name, young man?" she calmly asked, her voice calm yet full of vivacity at the same time.

"My name's Luke! Wait; are you serious, I'm getting my own house? That's so... exciting! I dunno how I'll pay for it, though."

Tortimer spoke up. "Don't worry, kiddo. I'm sure you can find work or something. Anyhoo, like Miss Marón mentioned, it's pretty late – oh my, almost one o' clock now! Heh horf! Well, it looks like you two better get going. I'll be leaving for home soon too. See you youngsters later!" he grinned.

The little white-haired boy looked up to the scarlet-haired lady. He was young, naïve, and full of energy – something the woman saw in herself just fifteen years ago when she was his age. Though the painful ordeal had passed with Luke doubting and poor, he still kept the seeds of hope in him. The heavy darkness of night still reigned supreme for now, but the boy knew that morning would soon come again with its warmth and brightness. He smiled at Verity, and together the two humans walked out of the cramped, crumbling police station and into the cool, open space of the town of Altomaire.

Finally, Luke was free.

...

As the two sauntered down the street and eventually out of sight, Tortimer resigned to his chair again and rested his cane. He turned to Copper, though this time with the same initial steel-hard gaze. The old mayor's guile of cheerfulness and benevolence had worn off into a conniving scowl.

"This Luke child, though he has won me over with this grand gift, he's no fool," the crafty tortoise mused. "I fear he fully understands my intentions. Copper; do keep an eye on him. He is worth watching and observing."

"Yes sir."

"Watch closely, especially once he makes a false step. Don't be afraid to use... necessary force. I trust your loyalty, do I not?"

Copper had no ill will toward the boy, not like the suspicious malevolence of Tortimer. However, orders were orders. "Y-Yes sir. Will do, sir."

"Glad to hear. Let us hope he never dares to challenge the mayorship – what an awful nightmare that would be!" Tortimer chuckled.

"Of course, sir," Cooper replied – though this time, half-heartedly.


	5. Chapter 5: Crumbling Town

**Crumbling Town**

* * *

The little boy and the tired lady walked out of the crumbling police station into the open air. A cool breeze rippled through the night sky, stirring up leaves and litter along the road. Though darkness reigned supreme over the town at this late hour, a few dim streetlights provided a much-needed glow, revealing the narrow, cracked asphalt road. _Plodplodplodplodplod _went the slow steps of the two humans walking down the lane. Although both the boy and the woman were quite tired after the embarrassing ordeal, they took no real effort to hasten their journey; it seemed as if they had found a modicum of solace during the deep night. Verity was content to get it over with; Luke was just relieved to be out of jail.

Walking alongside the scarlet-haired lady, the white-haired boy spoke up. "So Miss Marón-"

"No need for formalities, Luke," she cut off. "Just call me Verity."

"Er, yeah. Verity."

"What's the matter?"

"What exactly do you do? I mean, you've got a job, right?"

She was put off a bit by the question, but she proceeded to answer anyway. "Yes, I do have a job. I work at the Happy Home Academy-"

"Whatsdat?" he curiously interrupted.

"-which is a real estate and property appraisal association. I work at its branch here in town with Lyle," she aptly finished.

"Wonder what I'm going to do here," he thought aloud.

"Ah, that reminds me," she said while pulling out a map and handing it to Luke. "I have received word that a friend managed to acquire a job for you. You'll be reporting to Nook's store at eight o' clock sharp. Don't be late. He's got a tight schedule like me."

"Right. Thank you. Well, uhm, you're taking me to my home, right?" he excitedly asked; he never had something as significant as owning a house and job before. He clutched his backpack with all his belongings tightly.

"Correct. I hold the keys to that in my pocket right now."

"So cool..!"

Verity chose not to respond, instead rolling her eyes annoyedly.

The boy's mouth ran on and on like a windmill, ceaseless and impetuous. "And where exactly are we going? How far away?"

"Your house is located on acre D-4 – shouldn't be too far from here. It's a nice small place, located on an overlook toward the sea, though it is a bit... how can I put this... run-down."

"Oh, that's fine!" the boy cheekily grinned. "At least I've got a house of my own!"

"Yes, yes. Of course," the lady impatiently answered. Tired from the day's work, she was in not much of a mood to converse with a hyperactive fifteen-year-old. She was more than twice his age, and she was leaving the prime of her life. Excitement seemed to leave her life with age as well.

"So I'm going to have a house... and a job too!"

"Yes, yes. Now will you please quiet down a bit?"

Yet Luke was no idiot; he recognized her edginess. "So you're going back to the mayor when you're done? Or do you have work to do or something?" he carefully asked.

"No; I'm just like you. I have a home to return to. I need sleep," she plainly replied.

"Oh. Yeah, right," Luke awkwardly mumbled as he walked alongside her. _She's not the conversational type, I guess._

The two kept walking quietly, keeping to themselves. At this hour, no one was up; all retired to bed for the night, and they were completely alone. Verity's tired, thin frame cast a long shadow on the ground as she continued to amble straight ahead with her head up high and her boots level on the asphalt. She was content to keep quiet and look forward. At this hour, nobody save the two humans was awake, and the town was dark – closed for the night. Yet Luke relished the sights. He was in a completely new world – there was so much to see! Luke craned his neck around while he walked and eyed the cracked road, the dim, broken streetlights, and the dilapidated and tired-looking building façades. While he sauntered along, he still felt the spirit of adventure well in his throat.

With a small spark of ebullience, Luke managed the courage to talk to the lady again. "So Miss Marón-"

"Verity."

"Right. Verity. So what fun stuff do you think's out there in this town?" he eagerly asked.

She winced, put off a bit by the question and the boy's innocent ignorance, and sternly looked at his grinning face. She had enough.

"Luke, do you think this is all a silly game?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

"You think this is a place to just fish and catch butterflies all day?"

"Well, I kinda came here for a bit of an adventure," he admitted.

Verity gazed down to the confused little boy. "Is this some sort of animal utopia? Did you think you'd be spending your entire life digging up fossils and wasting away in carefree living?.. No, Luke, welcome to the real world. Welcome to a crumbling little town in the middle of nowhere."

"Crumbling?"

"Take a look at that," she remarked, pointing to a boarded-up building, devoid of life or maintenance, and now instead plastered with the ugly stains of graffiti and rust. "Used to be a thriving office building, at least years ago. But now? Abandoned. Or foreclosed. And look all around you – what do you see?"

Luke veered around. He saw the run-down buildings, the empty lots with unfinished foundations, houses with yards choked with weeds. "I know what you mean, Verity, but what about the animals and people here? I mean, sure this place is a bit of a mess... but that doesn't mean much, does it? Can't the mayor and his government do _something _about it with all his money?"

The lady in the black skirt shook her head at the boy's blissful naïveté. "Tortimer's nothing more than a self-centered kleptocrat. Our government's no better either. The town's Legislative Council is nothing more than his rubber stamp of approval. The police force? His private army. Public services? Few, if any."

"That does explain things," Luke murmured, kicking a rusty can down the cracked road which now led to a dirt path. "Still, at least I've got a place of my own. I've got a life ahead of me; I'm free now."

For a moment, an angry fire blazed in her weary eyes. Pent-up frustration began to spill out.

"You've _barely _escaped the wrath of His Excellency, our wonderful mayor. With money, of course. What if you hadn't the luxury of that much cash? Do you know how lucky you are right now to be free?" she snapped.

Luke stumbled in shock. "I-"

"Just look at this town! Look at it! What a fine time for you to come and start an adventure here. Again, is this a sort of game to you?" she vehemently questioned.

"That's not what I meant-"

"And now look at yourself; how do you think you got here now, boy?"

"I bribed him away, okay!" the boy yelled back, hurt and confused. A light from a small house flickered on, and the shadow of something got up.

"Do you think you are truly free? No; I'm sure the mayor's got his eye on you. What, are you now going to live off the 'fatta the lan'?"

"Well wasn't that the plan? To start out a life of my own?"

She sharply stared down at Luke as they trudged up a gentle hill. A couple of burned-out streetlights dotted the landscape. "Take a look at that delinquent Isaac. Look where his life's headed to."

"He's stuck in jail right now. He's a criminal."

"Correct, and nothing more," she huffed. Luke couldn't completely agree, though. "I remember him from years ago. He arrived in this town back when it was in its heyday five years ago. Charming, idealistic, excitable – he wanted to start his own adventure, just like you. But once things start to fall apart – when liveliness started to deteriorate a couple years back – the bright lights along the boulevards began to dim. The young adventurer and idealist, once he ran out of money, what do you think he started to do?"

Luke didn't answer, instead nodding his head and staring into the distance.

"Life isn't the carefree game you thought it was, Luke."

His head hung a bit lower, and the spark of energy inside him began to die down. "I guess you're right," he emotionlessly mumbled.

The scarlet-haired lady turned to him. "You own next to nothing besides whatever's left in your backpack. You don't even have that much money-"

"I gave Tortimer all I've got to live on," Luke dispassionately interrupted as his dreams of adventure were shot with harsh reality.

A twinge of sympathy clutched Verity. Granted, as an HHA worker she regularly experienced the graft and bribery and corruption that entangled business and government in the town. She even paid the occasional ten thousand Bell "gift" to officials – Tortimer included. But for the old tortoise to stoop as low as to bankrupt a child? She reminisced over recent memories, finding a boy in handcuffs with hope evaporated from his eyes. Going back further, she found another boy in handcuffs with hope evaporated from his eyes – this time, the hungry, dark-haired boy she found had stolen from a local bank. The child right next to her clutched his backpack a bit more tightly. She frowned, ceasing her vicious interrogations, and began to rethink things for a bit.

"Verity, I know you're really tired; I'm sorry for bothering you," the boy continued; he now felt just as tired as the lady next to him.

Yet her acrimony melted away, and the fire in her eyes ceded into genuine sympathy.

"No, no. None of that..." she whispered. "I should be the one sorry. It's just – this town I mean. I've lived here for a very long time. I just want you to understand... that life's not all the bright fun that it seems to be. I remember that I used to be as innocent and carefree as you, maybe even as lately as in my twenties. However, I've witnessed a great deal of things happen. I'm sorry for being so harsh – I shouldn't have done this to you."

Luke nodded again. "I know what you mean. I mean, after all, I sorta managed to be arrested on the first day of arriving," he chuckled.

The little boy turned and looked up toward her. He still kept a fragile grin. However, Verity noticed that something wasn't completely right with his smile; it looked... incomplete. Not genuine. _Broken._

Luke started to remember the crumbling buildings, the tired officers' faces, the cracked streets, and the dim lights. He remembered Tortimer's malevolent grin as he plucked away the ninety thousand Bells and Isaac's sneering grin as he shot searing insults from the squalor of his cell. He remembered Rover's unusual hesitation when he asked about the town – and especially its mayor.

A lone child ran through the halls of a sprawling airport with innocence plastered on his smiling face. All but a faded memory for Luke.

The wind whistled through the grass ever so softly, and the moon and the starts shined gently over the hills and valleys. Verity checked her watch; the time read nearly one-thirty. Two humans stood next to each other on the low hilltop and paused, looking over the little dimly-lit town. The night was dark and the land was as silent as death.

"Verity," the white-haired child asked, "Why are things the way they are?"

In all her thirty-three years of life, she never hesitated so much on such a simple question.

"I-I don't know."

A bit of disappointment spread across Luke's face. "Oh. I see..."

But the lady in red gave a rare smile and crouched down, looking eye-to-eye with the white-haired boy. She placed a warm hand on his shoulder and softly spoke. "Luke, I don't entirely know why things are falling apart here. Perhaps it's plainly because of Tortimer or bad business. Even though I've lived here for many years, I'm still not too sure. But don't dwell on that too much; that doesn't really matter. We've got each other, and no matter what, life still goes on, doesn't it?"

Unexpectedly, the young boy jumped and began to hug Verity, smiling and laughing. "It's okay, Miss Verity. I know things aren't right the way they are. Maybe life's falling apart in Altomaire, maybe Mayor Tortimer's going to be the end of you and me. But I want to change things. Maybe that could be my adventure: to make things a bit better here. But hey, things could get better - I really think so!"

Surprised for a brief moment, Verity smiled again and hugged back, embracing him tightly. "Dream on, Luke. Dream on..."

The two looked over to the small town from the hilltop. Verity pointed out the sights and spots in Altomaire to Luke, her thin hand warmly clutching his shoulder. From the humble Able Sisters' one-story tailor shop to the monolithic and magnificent Town Hall, bedecked with marble columns, the town looked vibrant even during the middle of the night underneath all the glowing stars. Crumbling as the town was, a bit of life still seemed to glow that night.

Still, it was very late, and both the boy and the woman were both tired. They continued their journey and walked for a couple more minutes until they reached a quaint little hutch by the edge of the sea.

"Looks like we've reached your new home," Verity smiled as they stood on the doorstep of the small house which looked over the waters. "Here are your keys," she added, passing the brass tool to Luke.

Luke eyed the house. At least from the exterior it stood modestly with a couple of windows and a shingled roof. A small deck stood nearby as a bonus. "Thanks," he nodded. The inescapable question still hung over him, however, "But how am I going to pay for the house? I've got no money, after all."

"Your new job at Nook's should take care of that. Besides, with falling property values town-wide, this little home's price is a mere five million Bells. Quite a steal for a nice location too," she added, looking out to the waves.

"Five million..." Luke murmured.

"Don't worry, you can pay it off in due time. Well, it's late, and I'd better head back to my house to get some rest. I'm sure you're quite tired as well."

Luke yawned, nodding his head.

"It was nice meeting you, Luke; I'm glad to have met you," Verity added with a genuine smile. "Anyway, I must- actually, hold on a moment."

The boy was surprised by her sudden change of thought. "What's up?"

Verity shuffled around her red coat pockets, pulling out a small stack of banknotes.

"That's-!"

She brought out the cash and placed it into Luke's hands. "Correct. Five thousand Bells. I figured that without any money, how are you going to get your next meal? It's not that much – I don't make too much as an office worker anyway – but I hope you can use it wisely."

"Thank you so much!" he beamed.

"Not a problem at all. Again, I must leave now; it was a pleasure to meet you," she smiled. "Goodbye, Luke."

"See you later- hey, wait a minute," he suddenly paused.

Verity turned back in confusion. "Hmm? What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, but it's just that I... I've got a quick question."

"And what's that?" she asked, crouching to eye level with the white-haired boy and smiling like a mother watching her son.

"Uhm, it's a bit silly..."

"No questions are silly, Luke," the lady in red reassured.

"Okay, well, is there a girl named Charlotte here? I mean, Isaac told me... but is she _real__?"_

Verity's smile widened, and for the first time in a very long while, a little laugh escaped from her tired lips. She softly shook Luke's messy white hair and replied with a little of that renewed hope and joy she found tonight. "Oh, of course she is. Why, she's been here for years now, probably as long as Isaac has. In fact, she's even your age – what a coincidence! But she's got spunk, that girl does, even if she doesn't show at first. Strange, though, that the thug would tell the truth... but oh, I do worry about Isaac too sometimes."

Luke grinned in a bit of relief that the teen didn't dupe him again. "All right, just wanting to make sure. Thanks Verity- _yawnn!"_

"Looks like someone's a bit sleepy. I admit, I am quite as much tired as you are."

"Yeah. It's late; I think we should both go off to bed soon," the little boy said, rubbing his eyes.

"I concur. Well, good night Luke. Sleep tight now, all right?"

"Good night too, Verity!" the boy cried as she turned around and walked down the dirt path back to town.

As the scarlet-haired woman became a fainter and fainter speck into the distance, Luke inserted the brass key into the lock and opened the door. He stepped inside, looking around inside. The interior was plain and sparse, filled with just a wooden table and chairs. A tiny kitchenette lay to the side, and an equally-tiny bathroom was on the other. The moon's silver shimmer poured in from the wide windows, providing much-needed light. Yellowing, peeling wallpaper and some stained carpeting blanketed the interior. Above, a loft held a small bed – conveniently with a couple old linens.

_Looks like someone took out all the furniture._ Luke thought. _Modest and a bit cramped, spartan too, but comfortable enough. Whew, I'm tired. Today was an interesting day, and I've even got work tomorrow. Verity said the town's crumbling. She's right, it's in pretty bad shape, and Tortimer's doing nothing to save it. But still, I wonder what the future holds. Actually, no; she told me things are still going downhill! But it's already terrible as it is... what can stop it? Or, better yet, who can stop it? Me, I'm only a little kid with a stupid assault on criminal record. That Tortimer, he's pretty friendly in all, but I'm sure he's got something up his sleeve. Life, what's in store for me? A pointless adventure or something greater..? Anyway, that's a thought for tomorrow. Time for bed..._

Luke laid down his backpack and trudged up a ladder into the bed. Sighing contentedly, he threw himself underneath the blankets and settled his head down. His eyes soon fluttered to a close, and unconsciousness began to dance in him. He welcomed it all, finally finding solace.

...

A red-coated woman briskly walked down a dimly-lit street. Tired as she was, she couldn't help but keep smiling, remembering the spirited young boy whom she had just met. He was innocent and idealistic, maybe even a bit too naïve for his own good. Still, she remembered herself more than fifteen years ago, entering the gates of the small town and wondering about her life ahead. She wondered about the white-haired boy and his fiery energy.

_He wants to change this place? I'm sure he really does. But I remember Isaac, oh that boy... he had so much promise just like Luke! The two – at least when Isaac was much younger – are so similar. Where did it all go wrong though? Now he's just another criminal. A pathetic waste of life he became. I hope Luke doesn't become like that. I know he won't. He'll be a better guy, I'm sure of it. Heck, if I hear the words "Mayor Luke"..._

Verity grinned at her own thoughts and left them to quietly linger as she opened the door to her flat in the town and stepped inside.

...

Dead silence permeated throughout the entire town. However, late night's quietness couldn't help an older teen with unruly dark brown hair get an iota of rest. He tossed and turned on the cold metal bench with his arms restrained, unable to let sleep touch his tired soul. Odd thoughts, filled with anger, longing, and remorse, consumed his troubled mind, and the putrid cell's stench soured his senses.

_Hmph. Booker, Copper, Tortimer. That lot – who are they to lock me up? Welp, it was my own fault for leaving a footprint in Nook's store. Careless mistake – would have been worth so much! All that furniture, the computer and TV sets; I could have sold all that loot to Redd! But, psh, I need money – they don't understand at all! I need to live... The thrill of the heist, too. Not everyone can experience that! True living! Speaking of living, Lukey. Heh. Er, Luke. Nice guy. Hasn't seen this town yet... Wish I talked to him more. Don't have many friends – seems fine enough anyway. Hmph. Who needs friends, anyhow? Ugh, this stupid jail and this stupid stench; don't they know I have asthma? Stupid police and stupid mayors; who needs 'em? Gah, I made mistakes. Maybe if I went back in time-_

Right in the middle of his nighttime reverie, a door creaked open. Light poured into the dark cell block, and a lone figure's shadow emerged. The sound of clomping boots smacked the floor, breaking the silence along with a grunt and wheeze as the figure opened Isaac's jail cell with a loud _creak! _

"Who's there? What idiot would have the nerve to wake me up at this godforsaken hour?!" the teen sneered, hiding fear and uncertainty.

"A good friend called retribution," a husky voice coldly responded. Isaac immediately recognized it and cringed.

"Good evening, Copper."

"Enough with the niceties. I have endured more than enough from you. Each and every day I deal with your audacious arrogance; who are you to dare talk back at me? I'm stepping beyond the law with what I'm doing; however, this must be done. It's for your own benefit."

Isaac winced in fearful anticipation. "What d'you want from me?"

Unbridled anger was barely hidden beneath the usual officious tone. "Nothing. Instead, I'm _giving _something to you."

A smirk hid rising dread. "And what would that be?"

"I'm giving you something Tortimer wouldn't have the mettle to do himself: your rightful punishment. Tonight you will learn the true meaning of obedience."

Copper stepped closer to the teen on the bench, who now stared back in unmitigated panic. He was cornered and restrained, wearing on his face an expression of pure terror. The angry police dog towered above, revealing a heavy, black nightstick in his grip. Raising it high, Copper brought down the club with a mighty blow, striking directly on the teen's arm.

_WHAM! _

_"GAH! AARGH! AAH!" _Isaac cried as searing pain seized him.

_WHAM! _

_crack!_

_"AUGHHHH!"_ he yelped; this time, the officer landed a hit squarely on the teen's rib.

_WHAM! _

The officer landed a direct hit onto Isaac's shoulder. The teen writhed in painful agony. _"Nggh! Aaaahhh! _Okay! I'm sorry! Please, stop!"

"Did your parents teach you anything about discipline? Did they not love you enough?"

_"Gah! Aaaargh! I-"_

_WHAM!_

Fiery pain enveloped the teen, and his conscience ebbed away.

_WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!_

More vengeful strikes slammed onto Isaac's body.

"Copper... it hurts... stop... please..!" he weakly pleaded. The snarling teen's voice was all but gone, and what remained were only pained gasps and whimpers of a sixteen-year-old boy.

The enraged German Shepherd refused to hear a single word, silently and mercilessly bringing down the nightstick onto his body again and again. Anger coursed through his veins, and years of pent-up frustration - not only toward Isaac but toward Tortimer and Booker and the rest of his life in a dead-end job in a dead-end town - exploded into furious blows.

_WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!_

"...please!.. I beg..."

_WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! _

Darkness fell as the boy slipped into unconsciousness. Underneath his black hoodie and white shirt lay deep gashes and bruises; eventually they would be irremovable scars.

"...Thus the deed has been done. Well done on receiving the lesson," Copper murmured as he walked out of the cell and as a near-lifeless body slumped onto the ground with hands still tightly clenching a pair of handcuffs.


	6. Chapter 6: Everything Will Be All Right?

**Everything Will Be All Right?**

* * *

_BEEP!_ _BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_

"mmgrphm...? What... time?" a sleepy-headed boy mumbled, not yet ready and awake for the morning. The annoying, shrill cry of a watch alarm continued to drone on much to his chagrin. Luke pushed himself up from the loft and fell down sloppily onto the floor with a sharp _thud! _and an "Ouch!" The white-haired boy grumbled, wincing and massaging his panging arm, and probed his backpack for the ringing watch. A few nasty words escaped under his whispers as his brain struggled to get itself going. Tiredly, and with a bit of a hassle after tossing out crumpled clothes and items, he switched it off and checked the time.

Seven fifty-three.

His heart skipped a beat. _Now _he woke up.

"GAH! Oh no, I overslept! Curses, curses, _curses! _I gotta go go go now!" he yelled.

With stunning alarm and stupendous haste, the boy threw himself into the bathroom. He splashed two handfuls of cold water into his face and then brushed his teeth rather messily while throwing off his old, sweaty clothes and placing (similarly crumpled) new ones on. A plain white t-shirt, a pair of faded-out blue slim jeans, a pair of tacky purple-and-grey striped socks – they'd have to do; time was of the essence. He spat out the toothpaste and briefly checked the mirror.

_Hmph. Bedhead again... but maybe that'll impress the ladies with a sort of "savage" look, eh? Heh heh! _he grinned after admiring his messy white hair and then his budding biceps: the marks of a fifteen-year-old boy growing into another stage of life. For a couple milliseconds, even Father Time should stop to take a look at those 'beauts.

"Aw, what am I thinking; I'm going to be late for work! Late, late, late!" he cried, dashing out of the bathroom. Grabbing his watch, a crumpled pile of Bell notes, and his house key, Luke put on his sneakers and madly sprinted out of the house, onto the dirt path, and into the warmth of morning on a sunny spring day. The morning air was warm and the sky a bright blue – promising signs for the boy. Though last night's sojourn with Verity was a harsh check on reality, he still thought he was free, free to start his life in a new world! What would impede his new adventure; what evils could thwart his spirits and ambitions?

_If I'm late on the first day..._

Still, a bit of self-motivation and early rising could help that dream.

Luke sprinted across the dirt path and down the gentle hill into the town of Altomaire. His sneakers made an unruly _Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! _as they pounded the cracked pavement, and his pants clung tightly onto his wiry legs. Yet as he raced to arrive at Nook's store on time, he couldn't help but notice the scenery of the town. Animals were walking about, all right, going to work or just walking around in their casual shirts and gaudy suits. Some biked, some drove in little cars, and some walked. Some noticed the speeding boy, but with the daily grind of a weekday morning, few seemed to care too much.

"Heff, huff... okay, Luke, it's, uh... seven fifty-six right now," he muttered, peeking at his watch, "And we're just about in the middle of town. Okay, so turn left on Kramer Avenue and then right onto Maple... huff, pant." He was glad to have prepared beforehand the mile-long route. "Or was it left onto Broad Street..?" Well, preparations can go awry sometimes.

"Never mind, never mind," he huffed, slowing down to a brisk walk. "I'll just consult my... map... oh, right."

An inconvenient truth dawned on the boy.

"Right. No map."

He frantically craned around the streets and looked curiously at the rusty signs, trying to make out a clue where to go. The town was small, all right, but why was it so confusing for the boy to find a mere shop? He sprinted faster, harder, trying to suppress his rising dread. Panic ate away at his fears.

_Crap! I've done it; I've done it again. The map; how could have I lost it?! Or maybe it's at home? Ugh. What a great day it is. Don't panic; no worries, there's plenty of time._

He looked around again. More unusual streets, signs, and buildings – hardly a clue where to go. Animals (and a handful of humans here and there) bustled past on their own way to work, and a couple vehicles buzzed by.

_Stupid! First I wake up late, now I forget the map. Great. _

The boy held his head in his hands and walked around to nowhere, his shirt drenched in nervous sweat. It was seven fifty-eight; two more minutes until he had to report to Tom Nook. With hopelessness in his heart, he gave himself a slap on the face.

"Why, why, why?! I can't believe this. When is good fortune ever going to be on my side?" he moaned.

"Well, if you're looking for good fortune, why don't you try asking around to find it?" a voice piped up.

Luke turned around toward his left. A tall yellow canary, bedecked in a blue shirt. "What's the matter?" she – Luke guessed, judging the higher-pitched voice – asked him.

"I'm new here. I need to get to work..."

"Well so do I! But it seems that you're lost," she chuckled, flapping around comically.

"HEY! It's not funny; it's my first day on the job."

"Now calm down, Mr. Grumpypants! No need to get flustered."

"But I'm late!" Luke moaned – he wondered why he was wasting time with this bird anyway and began to jog in some direction. He was lost, but he wasn't going to spend another second with her.

"Hold on, hold on. Where do you need to go, first of all? My name's Margret, and I-"

At the question he jumped with a spark of excitement. "Yes, yes, that's nice thank you! Tom Nook's store."

Margret didn't seem to take offense to his interruption. "Oh well of course! You mean Nookingway? It's just left on Kramer Avenue and then right onto Maple. Not more than a half-mile or so."

"A half-mile?! And that's where I was going to go all along..." the boy groaned. "Well, whatever; at least I know where to go. Thanks, Margarine!" he yelled, rocketing away down the pavement and around a corner. In a flash, the youth had disappeared.

"Hey, wait just a minute!" she retorted, flustered. "The name's Margaret, not Margarine!"

...

It was a frustrating and tiring sprint, but the boy still made it on time, panting heavily as he reached the glass doors of a white store building front. Luke bent over, caught his breath, and checked the time.

Eight o' clock.

"Just... _pant... _on time," he gasped as he walked inside through the sliding doors. He oddly wondered if all the times he had been late helped him become a faster runner. A blast of cool air whooshed at his face, and he no sooner saw the interior of a little town store. Bright lights – even during the morning hour – shone all throughout Nookingway's interior. Luke ogled at the plethora of items on sale; from stationery in neat stacks to hefty furniture sets, it seemed as if this place sold everything! The effulgence of the gleaming lights cast a bright glare on all the plasticky and metallic wares with shiny price tags. But that wasn't his purpose; he knew he had to meet up with a "Tom Nook" and begin his job. After all, it was only Rover's quick benevolence that allowed him to receive it. Now that the inconvenience and hassle of the past ten minutes were dealt with, Luke realized he now had to find the businessanimal.

He slowly walked across the tiled floor with a _tap, tap, tap._ The store, now just opening, was completely empty save for an early shopper or two. A couple little raccoon kids scurried about with boxes of clothes – _probably my new co-workers_ he thought. Neat wares in neat rows filled the interior. He ambled a bit further past the main corridor, and turning around a corner, he saw no other than, putting away new merchandise and hunched over a desk scrawling on jumbles of paperwork, him: a brown raccoon-ish creature in an apron, which was embossed with two little words: Tom Nook.

The apron-bedecked tanuki looked up from the desk and spotted the white-haired boy with an eager smile. "Yes, yes! Good morning, good sir! How may I help you today? Not to bother you, but did you notice our clearance sale on assorted socks and underwear? Fifty percent off across the board – a steal if you'd ask me! Ho ho ho!"

A little taken aback, Luke stuttered. "Uh, no, I'm not interested in that. You see, I-I'm actually here to work. Rover supposedly called you, and Miss Verity told me that I'm supposed to report to you, Mr. Nook."

His grin shrank ever so slightly. "I see. You must be the delivery boy that cat chatted about to me, yes," he exhaled, rising from his mountain of paperwork. "Well, at least you're not _too _late. Still, we've got a couple deliveries to hand out from yesterday's orders – not as much as usual, but still a chore no less! But you could have come earlier, anyway."

"So I'm hired? I work now for you?"

"Well of course, Mister... uh..."

"Luke."

"Yes! Right-o. Luke. You'll be working as a deliveryman for Nookingway Retailers. Though it's been official already; I've been signing off the work papers for you right at the moment! But ohho, silly me, we've got to go over a couple details together, don't we!" he chuckled while scurrying into a storeroom.

"Naturally," the boy mumbled.

The brown tanuki emerged out of the cavern of a storage room and pulled out a worn-out green apron, decorated with a single leaf on the front panel. "Work uniform!" he proclaimed, pulling it over the slim boy's frame and tying it a bit too excitedly (though the overworked businessanimal virtually ran on coffee anyway). No taller than average at his age, Luke had to tie it extra tight so that the fabric didn't drag along the ground. At least the apron fit snugly. Not loosely and disheveled like Nook's big blue apron. Luke wondered why he wore it, considering the raccoonish businessanimal already was wearing a shirt and black tie.

The tanuki continued to chatter on. "Each day we open from eight in the morning to ten at night. I personally manage this shop with my nephews, Timmy and Tommy. They're wonderful little rascals, always netting another sale when they can. But anyhoo, concerning deliveries – I know this is quite important for you – we strive to finish all orders before six o' clock in the evening. Though you came on time, I'd prefer you come a bit earlier and a bit more... _professionally._"

Luke didn't know what to say; his hair was messier than ever, and his white t-shirt reeked a soggy odor of sweat. Professionalism wasn't his forte today. "Apologies," he awkwardly replied.

"Hoho! No worries, rookie. I'm sure you're getting adjusted to town life anyhow. Why, Tortimer just called this morning to tell me you've arrived safe and sound! That's good news too; just a couple days ago some hooligan tried to run off with my wares! The kid had the foolish nerve to shoplift from ol' Nook, hoho, but justice literally clonked him on his noggin!"

Luke froze in his tracks, and a chill jumped up his spine, leaving him in cataplexy. "Ahaha! Oh yeahhaha! Nice old tortoise, the mayor. Glad to hear everything's fine, though," he nervously laughed. He wanted to change the subject immediately and escape the ugly memories of last night, "So, in other news, what's the wage going to be for a delivery boy like me?"

Nook's smile grew a bit fainter. "Ah. Yes; glad you brought that up. I'm going to have to pay you seven hundred Bells per hour, so that would amount to – assuming that you work diligently throughout your ten-hour shift – seven thousand a day. Five days a week; we've got another delivery cat working on weekends. So you'll get a nice fat paycheck of thirty-five grand each week, yes?"

_Thirty-five grand!_ _Thirty-five thousand Bells! Each week! _Luke imagined. _And all I need to do is hand out some packages of whatever!.. But wait; that's just seven hundred an hour. Huh. That's just below..._

"Mr. Nook?" the boy inquired as the tanuki turned back.

"Yes? What seems to be the problem?"

"I should receive seven hundred Bells per hour of work, right?"

"Of course, and nothing more."

"Isn't that just – _gulp! – _below minimum wage?"

Nook was stunned but moreso a bit perplexed; such an abstract concept never entered his mind. Or so he feigned. "Hmm? What's this 'minimum wage' you're talking about? Is that some new silly government regulation on my business?"

"No, no! It's just a… well, you're partly right, I suppose, but it's actually-"

"I want to hear none of it, please. Seven hundred Bells an hour is generous enough," he firmly asserted. "Furthermore, I'm providing that uniform of yours for no charge. Listen, I'm an open-minded 'coon, and I think you'd be a great employee. However, insubordination – messing around with my own business like that – will not be tolerated. Do you understand? Next time there will be a fine for talk like that, yes?"

Luke gaped, but he knew not to dare mess with his new boss, an imposing brown figure in a black mask, hands akimbo. "Yes sir, won't happen again at all!" he nervously affirmed.

"Good; I'm glad we understand each other on terms, ho-ho!" he chuckled, his demeanor now completely flipped around, the greedy gleam in his eye all but satiated by Luke's obeisance.

_Whew. That was a close call. A really close one. But still, seven hundred – how am I going to live off of that? I've got a mortgage to pay and_ _myself to feed. Oh well, life's adventure still goes on, doesn't it? But it's just so unfair! Already that, and now this. But on the other hand he's generous to give me a job, just like that, on the spot. I mean, it's not like I'm slaving away for him to pay off some haranguing mortgage-debt, right? Why, I'm my own man; I've got a house and a job!.. but still. So much and yet so little._

Though relieved to have found work so quickly, a strange emotion of longing grasped him. Surely it wasn't greed now, was it? No, no; it shouldn't have been that; seven hundred Bells an hour is far too tiny a sum to support a growing child like him; it was the hunger of wanting! Yet the boy thought otherwise; he scolded himself for daring to let such a thought enter his mind. His youthful morality rebuked those wicked desires and longings. Conflictions raged a strange war in Luke's mind as he stared into the business owner's probing eyes.

_But who am I to want more? After all, it was greed that led Tortimer to extort away the ninety thousand Bells now, wasn't it? I can't be greedy like him! On the other hand, I can barely live on seven thousand a day. The price of even a simple meal – ugh, how expensive! But no; I'm not Tortimer. To take more is to invite greed; after all Nook's generous enough. Rover too – what would I be doing without him? I'm doing the right thing. I think. Just listen to the 'coon, and I'll turn out just fine. If things go along as planned, if nothing changes... then everything will be all right. There will be nothing wrong, right? _

Nook cocked his head in authoritative questioning; Luke assiduously nodded.

_No more words for now: employer is king! To ask for more than I need – isn't that greed? And greed is evil! Obedience is good. If things don't change, if the norm is okay, then maybe my adventure will turn out just fine. Everything will be all right._

_Isn't that the truth?_

No words escaped the boy's mouth. In the far corner of the shop, a light began to dim. Foul stench of something grew stronger and more acrid. As if nothing strange occurred to him, the tanuki chattered on with his instructions.

"Right-o. Well, it's barely past eight, so the day isn't _totally _gone. So, as I was saying, as our new delivery boy, you're going to take that bag right there, see?" he exclaimed, pointing to a tan messenger bag on a table, bulging with packages.

"So I just go around town and deliver these boxes to everybody?"

"Yes, yes; precisely!" the raccoonish business animal exclaimed, shoving the bristling bag with all its parcels into Luke's arms. "Here's the list of recipients too; they all expect their packages before evening! Now, given that you're new around here – Rover took the liberty of explaining _everything_, hoho – I've included a map of the place."

The boy smiled in relief as the tanuki threw more papers at him. "Thanks, Mr. Nook."

"Hoho; no need for that. Even though I'm your employer, just call me Tom, yes!"

"Of course, Tom," Luke replied, hiding his hands in his jean pockets.

"Good, good; I'm glad we got everything sorted out almost perfectly. Now, hurry along; we've got orders to complete, yes? I expect all the packages delivered by six o' clock tonight," Nook explained, returning to the mountain of his papers on his desk; the opening of new franchise locations came with a burden of paperwork for the businessanimal. "Again, today's a slow day, so there shouldn't be too much walking around for you. Well, anyhoo, see you around! Talk to me or my wonderful nephews Timmy and Tommy if you've got questions, yes?"

"Yes, sir," the messy-haired boy saluted, walking calmly past the aisles, out of the glass doors, and into the spring air once again. His green apron hung neatly over his hips, the dull tan messenger bag upon his shoulder brimming with goods of all sorts from collapsible furniture (Luke had no idea how these animals shrank couches down to the size of a leaf) to simple parcels of paper. He walked out onto the cracked pavement, content yet not content at the same time.

The little white-haired boy, his mind ruled by youthful innocence and naïveté, wanted to see everything in black and white. There were no grays nor hues nor shades; everything to him was a good or a bad, a light or a dark, a morality or an evil, and he refused to see beyond that. And he only wanted to do the right thing. But what was the right thing: to thrive in generosity and acquiescence or to fight against the bondage of inadequacy and exploitation? And what would he do?

A warm breeze wafted throughout the morning air, carrying a scent of flowering apple trees. Spring's zephyr did what it could to calm his tormented mind and cool his chest (and shirt, which was still drenched with sweat).

As if to clear his mind, Luke shook his head vigorously. "Right-o," he clicked. "I've got a delivery route to finish."

He looked at the list of customers' orders. Pilot needed a new airplane training manual. Elina ordered a guitar. Brewster from Oceanridge Diner wanted more tablecloths. Marie bought a whole bed, and even more perplexingly, Jack somehow purchased a jackhammer. The litany of orders went on and on, but what was his first destination? Luke checked the folded-up map and consulted a scrawled-on paper which read: _Leif, proprietor of gardening store. Needs seed packets; deliver first. Town outskirts off of Willow St. _

"Hmm, Willow Street. That's..." he mused while scrutinizing the map, "a mile or two's walk from here. This time, I'm not in a big rush. Shouldn't take too long. Well, time to start the job."

With that, the boy packed up his messenger bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked down the lane. However, never satisfied with living life slowly, he began to pick up the pace to a brisk jog. His sneakers went _Clompclompclomp! _as they pounded the fractured concrete. Still, muddled thoughts swirled in his head. Though he knew where to go – the outskirts off of Willow Street – his mind didn't. It waged a civil war locked in black-and-white tones without hues nor shades.


	7. Chapter 7: Blood-Red Rose

**Blood-Red Rose**

* * *

A cool zephyr gently rushed through the open-door gardening store from outside, shaking green leaves, maple sapling stems, and a couple of hanging wind-chimes inside. Both wind and warmth were pleasantly invited into the shop which was known for its wide array of plants and tools. Even at this early hour customers poured in; the season was ripe for planting and growing (and buying). Yet the breeze, subtle as it was, still managed to make a complete mess of a young girl's light blonde hair. An unruly scrunch flopped into her face and blocked her sight with a light golden veil. She absentmindedly shook away the annoying, messy lock, concentrating on carrying fresh potted flowers to the front of the store to display. Work needed to be done, and she didn't have the time to worry about petty things.

"For Pete's sake, this _always _happens when I'm busy. Can't Mother Nature leave me alone when I've got my hands full?" the girl huffed. Her gloved hands were full of ceramic pots and plants. As she tirelessly carried the heavy wares, her white sleeveless shirt shone in the mid-morning sunlight. Though petite physique appeared to hamper her skill, she nonetheless hoisted the hulking potted flowers in front of the store without much more than a wheeze. The job was strenuous, but she was used to the toil over the years. The little girl paused a moment to smell the blooming red roses, their rich color blending into the color of her short skirt.

A gentle voice like the day's wind cooed from inside. "Charlotte, did you remember to water those roses? They've got to be beautiful for the world to see."

"Of course I did; that's why they're _so damn heavy, _Leif!" the girl smiled.

"Ahah, I knew you'd remember. Good to hear you sparking as always," he calmly noted. "Oh, and by the way, we're expecting a shipment of veggie seeds from Nookingway soon. If you see somebody in a green apron, that's probably our delivery guy."

"Phhfth, that crook? You ordered from _him?"_

"Oh dear, Charlotte, please don't lash out like that; he's a very honest and hard-working businessanimal," the old sloth gently admonished – he was the very opposite of the imposing figure the tanuki was.

"Whatever, Leif," Charlotte smirked, "But the poor soul who has to deliver for him – he or she's gonna find out something different."

Leif shook his wizened gray head and returned to tending the budding saplings and the bubbly customers. Likewise, the fair-skinned girl returned to stacking pots and hauling plants. The two were a harmonious pair, looking out for each other and tending business as equals even when separated by decades of age and experience. Indeed, some mistook the little girl for the sloth's adoptive daughter. The gardening shop was their refuge from the doldrums of the crumbling town, a flowery escape from all the struggles and iniquities out there even if it was just a stone's throw down the path. Though business was rarely robust and profits mediocre, the sloth and the girl were both content and prideful in their work. At least Leif was.

Charlotte sighed. When April with his showers sweet with fruit followed the piercing drought of March, he bathed every vein filled with cool liquor to grow the flowers. The roses gorgeously preened with their vibrant red petals and greened thorns. This was the third spring of her career, and she enjoyed the rush of new life. Hopefully this year there'd be enough of a profit – maybe the first year they'd make one – to take some extra cash home. She could get something good to eat, she could finally take a day or two off, and maybe even get back to night school. Then she would get real work. Ambitious dreams blossomed like the roses in the pot. With spring morning's grace, a long-held hope welled up and bloomed.

Maybe, for some chance this year, things could be a bit better.

A rough glove covering dainty, small fingers plucked a single thorny bulb from a bush.

_Another year, another lively bloom. Unfortunately most of the flowers come and go each year; annuals, they're called. Like daisies. They sprout and blossom, but then they wither away, never changing nor growing. Insignificant little things die with a year-long lifespan then they sprout again. But the rose- _she wondered, holding the deep red flower in her hand, _The rose is perennial. It grows and grows each year, blooming in greater numbers for decades each time... that's something to think about. Roses, unlike little daisies, become big, great things. Beautiful and strong, growing for years. It'd be great to be one, wouldn't it? Haha, oh Charlotte. Always hoping but never finding. I'm fifteen now. I should be more mature, more realistic about my own life. But then again, what if..?_

Her tight lips spread into a weary smile. Charlotte dearly understood Leif, and she always enjoyed the comfort spring showered upon her. She earnestly hoped for the best, just like the gentle gardener. Yet as another season in Altomaire bloomed, why didn't she feel the excitement she had when she first arrived?

...

The cracked road gave out along with the tired buildings and broken streetlights. Luke jogged on the dirt path, his jeans again clinging snugly to his slim legs. Sneakers drummed a _clompclompclomp _and kicked up tiny dust clouds. A rusty signpost read "Willow Street"; he was nearing his first delivery destination. The boy should have been pleased to have finally found his way without throwing another tantrum, but instead he trotted along, trying to find light in a muddled mind.

_I'll find a way to do the right thing. I'm sure... oh, but what can I do? I've gotta do something! Just look at the town; look at it, Luke! It's not the dreamy escape from hell I used to think it was. That Tortimer just blackmailed and took away everything right in front of me. And not just the animals: the humans too! I mean, Isaac for example: that snarling guy who steals to... hmm... survive. He's doing the wrong thing. But he's so tired and sickly; I wonder if he's ever got the chance to rid that awful cough. No money, obviously. Still, he's a criminal! He can't just rob others like that; he's even proud of it. He's a bad person: just a simple thug... right?_

Luke remembered longing eyes hidden beneath penetrating brown irises. A snarling voice disguised the subtle plea for companionship. If only the white-haired child watched and heard from the chamber on that frightful night.

_But then again, is Isaac right to do that? Ah, classic dilemma. Poor-dude-needs-to-steal-to-support-poor-family. Some sort of ethics thing those academy teachers brought to us in class. Funny, back there I was always stuck in some stuffy suit, and now here I'm in another uniform. Except without a jacket and tie and with this worn-out apron. Didn't they say that the man should just follow the law like any good citizen? I forget. Good, actually. But Isaac's not a grown man; he's only a year older than me, and he's committing robberies left and right!.. Still, when I look at this town, I have to stop and think. This crumbling town and its crumbling people, don't they know what's right? Maybe if they tried to, then we wouldn't have all these problems. Maybe Nook could have been more generous, and maybe Isaac wouldn't have to be the thug he is. But that's looking at some delusional paradise. Look at the real world, Luke. There are good people, and there are bad people. It seems to me that there's just evil everywhere..! _

Once again, the little boy desperately wanted to see everything in black and white. Good guys and bad guys and absolutely nobody in between. The notion of ambiguity was completely unknown to his innocent soul. As the white-haired boy trudged up the grassy hill, he began to slow down his pace. The bag, filled to the brim with heavy packages, weighed heavily on his bony shoulder. A thin arm struggled to lift the burden and rest it on the other. His mind still mired in a fitful war.

...

She gazed into seductive flower's blood-red rose petals and clasped its prickly thorn-studded stem. A fresh aroma wafted into her nose and beckoned her thoughts.

_The rose becomes a grand thing; it becomes a something from a nothing! It only wants to grow and grow! Though it goes through the troubles of any flower, it only desires to bloom into something amazing. Such is the ambition of a simple flower... no wonder it's our most popular cultivar. _

"Charlotte!" Leif's gentle voice called. "Please bring the pots out to the front; they're quite beautiful to look at; everyone who passes by will want to come. The glazed ones, please."

"Coming," she sighed, pocketing the flower as she dashed back inside to haul out the glass wares. The petite girl, with every ounce of strength, hoisted the pots and trudged right to the front. Little watery beads trickled down her neck as she strained to carry them. More of the usual grunt labor.

_If that's just a flower, then look at me. I'm no rose; I'm just a simple daisy. __I've been struggling to live in this crummy town for years. Three, to be exact and maybe a little more. But what have I done since I arrived from the plane? All I've done is just work, work, work! All day, every day in this flower shop with that old sloth! Hold on, what's this? Oh, that's right; I haven't even received an inkling of a promotion! The same wage, the same job and position – all for three years. Yep, ladies and gentlemen, Charlotte here is the perfect example of your garden-variety indoor daisy. Water each day, and she'll bloom for a couple days then die and return back as a piddly sprout again._ _Springtime comes with its false promises and empty blooms. What a fine time to live!_

She set a glass pot a little too firmly onto the ground, sending an ugly crack straight through the glazing. Yet the girl didn't care; she was too busy fanning the fires of her fuming soul. The frustrations of life ate away with vicious corrosion deep inside as she labored to place the rest of her heavy burdens down.

_This gardening shop, a supposed 'refuge from the iniquities of the world' as old Leif would say, is nothing more than a dead end. That graying sloth, he's too old and gentle to know what's really going on. I've been stuck in a dead-end job in a dead-end – actually, a declining – town for years now. For years! And each new year it's the same thing over and over and over again! Oh, maybe things will get better the following season? Hmm, maybe when we have more money I'll see if I can get you a bit more? What about when we might pull in just one more customer? What about when this whole damn town becomes less of a dump, huh? Well too late; by the time that miracle happens, I'll be rotting away in a hole six feet under, wearing the same laborer's gloves as I am right now, with daisies happily resting on my cursed gravestone. I've always wanted to do something. I've kept dreaming, wishing, praying. But with each passing year, the orgy of hope seems to become duller and duller... _

Another annoying breeze flicked her light hair into her face, but this time she didn't seem to care.

...

The white-haired boy walked faster and faster; his mind was set ablaze in a fiery riot. Grunting and wheezing, he passed the heavy messenger bag onto his left shoulder to let the other rest. Drops of sweat trickled down his shirt whilst he struggled, but he could always take a break from the tiring labor. However, there would be no rest for his soul; with every passing minute the restless flames grew stronger and stronger.

_But there's so much evil and so much decay in this wretched town! I mean, look at the faces of it all: the mayor, the buildings, the jail cell – why, it's all no better than my ugly life back at home and the wretched academy. I really thought my life would be so much better after running to this place... __And how foolish I was to think I would find my new adventure here. E__ven my job with Nook, what I first thought was a blessing turns out to be nothing more than a joke! Here I am, trying to pay for a bit of food and shelter, barely scraping by thanks to a small 'fee', and there the 'coon goes, giving me near nothing for hauling his deliveries like a pack animal! _

Childish dogma flared in black and white at the thought of the tanuki.

_No; he's evil! It's wrong of him to do that. And there I was an hour ago, thinking that it was good for me to 'shine' in his 'benevolence'; how wrong I was to think everything would be all right. __I came to this town not only to start my own life and adventure but to escape hell. My memories at the academy and with Mom and Dad... I don't want to bring them up ever again. But here in Altomaire with these wonderful talking animals – truly, is it so much different from the world I knew? Have I escaped darkness, or did I just find more madness?_

As Luke reached the top of the hill, he eyed a small open-air shop. He knew it was the gardening shop, and at the same time he fished around the heavy bag and eventually found a long box of seed packets, labelled "For Leif – Urgent Delivery from Nookingway".

But cold reality found its way into his mind. "I still need to eat. Can't do anything, and talking to Nook would be suicide. Better get to work then," he sighed.

...

Spring's ceaseless warm breezes rustled against the little girl's blood-red skirt. Charlotte's knee-length socks hugged tightly against her legs as she laid down the other pots – this time a bit more carefully – and picked up the cracked one. The fractured glassware would be unsellable and probably unfixable without a copious amount of glue. She took it and walked into the main dirt road, unsure of what to do with the ugly thing. Right now, however, she focused on her mind, which brewed with thoughts embroiled with years of bottled-up frustration.

_Oh, the evils of it all! How they've always come to strike me down, never giving me a shred of a chance to grow! Fifteen years: is that not enough for a girl to grow up and see the darkness in our 'promised land'? I've seen in this town: the hopelessness and frustration: Officer Copper, the boarded-up houses and businesses, and the crime I see daily. Maybe even the thugs – okay, Isaac's an exception since he virtually has no soul – are starting to get a bit weary. Why should I turn into the decay like so many others I know? I mean, even poor Leif: every day he walks in with that plastered-on smile, always hoping for a better tomorrow but knowing that the grass is always greener outside of this dumpy town. No; I won't let this happen. Not for Leif, not for my friends, not for me. I'll show them all that I won't crumble like the rest of the world; I will become a rose, breaking free from the stagnancies of it all! No more shall I be the same old laborer in a 'safehouse from the madness'. Why, the madness – or rather the decline into it – reaches here too. No more shall I ever be another daisy! _

She looked into the distance up the hill and gripped hard the fractured glass pot with her gloved hands, feeling the prickly blood-red rose from her pocket as well. The fire in her soul roared munificently and ambitiously, singing a battle hymn that had just reached a dangerous fortissimo.

...

Luke strided forward, holding out the box which contained packets of veggie seeds, all for the gardening shop's wares. An an inconvenient truth dawned upon him.

_There's just so much decay and hopelessness here. Crime, corruption, you name it. It's like the town's about to die._

_And I'm just a kid. I can't do anything to fix it. __All I want to do is the right thing, a little bit here and there. Is that good enough? Maybe, at best. _

The boy ran down the hill, spotting a girl about his age holding some broken glass jar. She was wearing gloves; he assumed she was a worker for the gardening shop. Could it be the "dopey-haired" girl that thug Isaac talked about?

He squinted a little, and as she turned her face toward him (he hoped), a little warmth reached his face. _I don't think her hair's that dopey, Isaac..._

He tried to smile a bit, flicking an unruly cowlick aside and wondering if she didn't see him before he fixed his fussy hair.

...

The girl looked up toward the hill, and her soul finally found refuge in truth after a long battle.

_I can be something, yet there's so much decay and evil creeping everywhere... and I hate it all! Still, maybe a bit at a time, and it will grow... and someday I'll be controlling fate's reins! Hope may be declining, but it will never die! _

...

As Luke sprinted down, he began cheekily yelling like a street hawker. He had finally found an answer, even as vague and muddled as it was. The green apron flapped against his hips, and his mop of white hair whooshed around whilst he gained speed. His sneakers, which went _Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! _against the dirt path, started to undo themselves a little. White laces loosened themselves free and flapped around like overcooked spaghetti. His legs flew as he dashed downhill, smacking the ground loud enough for the girl to hear.

Charlotte shook her head from her soul's anthem and looked up toward the dusty hill, spotting a boy her age sprinting down holding some wrapped-up box which shook with a _chakka!chakka!chakka! _while tiny seeds jumped loudly inside the packets. She knew it was the delivery from Nook, and she felt a little sorry for the poor green-aproned soul who had to slave away for him. Also, that boy needed a comb; spiky, disheveled hair _– come on_, who did he think he was, some sort of anime hero?

"Well, that must be our delivery. Cripes, that kid's got too much sugar in his system," she muttered, spotting Luke nosily clamor for her attention. "Must be a new guy. Never seen him around. Hang on; his shoelaces, they're-"

The white-haired boy started vaguely hollering about "delivery from Nookingway for Leif" as he approached the zenith of his speed _– _his track-and-field experiences at the academy served him well. _CLOMP! CLOMP! CLOMP! _pounded the sneakers onto the dirt. But the boy, careless as he was, totally forgot that his shoelaces jumbled up right in front of his feet, and it took only one careless misstep for him to-

"Hey, kid with white hair, your shoe- _HUNH?"_

_yank!_

"_WAAAUGGHH!"_

_SLIP!_

_BOOMPH!_

_SMACK!_

_Crunch-CRASH!_

"...ugh..."

"Ow..."

-trip on his own shoelaces and fly into the air, soaring and landing directly into the surprised girl in front of him. A heavy bag flew, scattering boxes with a _Tumbletumbletumble! _A fractured glass jar slipped out of gloved hands, flying and landing onto something hard with a _SMASH!-Tinkletinkletinkle. _

"_OUCH!"_ yelled Charlotte as a heavy package hit her squarely on her forehead. A purple splotch began to well up.

"I-_AGHH!" _Luke shouted as the glass jar shattered onto his skull, sending fragments of colored glass everywhere along the dirt road. A tiny trickle of red flowed from his forehead, staining his paper-white hair and shirt. The boy and the girl both groaned in pain on top of each other with dusty debris around. A couple of customers – Leif included – checked the loud commotion just outside the quiet shop.

"Ughh... can't you just look where you're going?" Charlotte muttered. In all her fifteen years of life, she had never met such a crass and impetuous boy like him.

Still reeling from the bonk, Luke clutched his head; all he could see were stars and blurry things. He wildly groped around to find his way on his feet. "Well, why were you just standing there like that, looking into nowhere? I mean, come on, you were just _right there_, Charlotte!"

"I- huh? How the hell could a stranger like you know my name? And why are you – hey, get your hands off me, you dirty pervert!" she screeched.

"Wait, what?!"

Luke glanced down. Though the injured – and quite upset – kids were jumbled together in the dust, she was on her back with light blonde hair dirty and mussed, and he was on top. He shook his head to get the blurriness out. His hands were awkwardly pressing on her chest. Luke immediately retracted his lanky arms, blushing rather hotly and blubbering incoherent apologies, and glancing upwards again, he-

_POW!_

"_Oomph!"_

_THUD! Skiddskidddd!_

-felt a knuckled punch hit him square on the nose, the impact sending him flying off and landing some several feet away. A couple bystanders whispered an "Oooh, owch" in sympathy.

"Ouch ouch ouch _ouch! Gah!_ What did you do that for?!" he angrily retorted, picking himself up and massaging his aching head. Red-hot embarrassment and shame stabbed him as a small crowd witnessed the whole disaster: the klutzy slip, the awkward hands, and the powerful punch. A stream of crimson red flowed steadily down his nose, staining his white shirt a deep rosy color.

"Get away from me, you sicko, unless you want to feel more pain!" she yelled back, bringing up gloved hands in a fighting stance. Spring morning's golden light reflected off her sleeveless white blouse, now stained with the light brown of dust and flecks of Luke's crimson blood.

"That was an accident! A total accident!" he cried, holding back angry tears which still held the aching pains from his soul's war. "Look; I didn't mean to hurt or touch you like that or anything – I'm sorry for not paying attention. Please, just listen to me! I don't want to fight you."

_drip drip drip_ went the red stuff from his nose and forehead down his neck, through the shirt and apron, and onto the dusty path. A hushed silence permeated the light, wispy air.

But conscience had now convicted the little girl, and now pure regret found its way into her heart. She lowered her thin arms and stared softly to the injured boy. "Look, I didn't mean..."

Luke muttered, spitting out the dirt from his mouth and wiping his reddened nose. "S'alright. Say no more. It's my fault again, isn't it? Here, give this to Leif. It's express delivery from Tom Nook _–_ seeds or something. Just please try to understand that I'm sorry. I really mean it. Have a good day..."

The boy awkwardly handed over the package to Charlotte, who managed to mumble a "thank you" in return. He cracked a broken smile and, after quickly putting the scattered boxes back into the brown bag, madly scurried away. Though it was barely eight-thirty on that warm Monday morning, he felt tired already.

As he quickly jogged away back toward the town, a voice rang out. "Hey wait! I'm so sorry! Please; it was my fault, er, deliveryboy! Don't take it too seriously! Well, I mean, I hurt you pretty bad... but it's my fault! Oh, and what's your name?!"

Luke turned back, his dirtied hair messily whipping in the wind. He shot back an angry scowl smeared with humiliation and hurt. All that the girl wanted was some self-satisfaction, he believed. All she wanted was to hurt him. Nothing dissimilar from his past life. The dream was now over; no longer did the boy wrap himself in the delusion of a carefree adventure, for even a seemingly sweet girl like her was constricted by a manifestation of wrath and frustration. He retreated and sprinted back up the hill, apron tied and bag brimming with goods. He had more deliveries to fill out, and Nook was expecting no less than all work to be duly completed. Then, Luke would have the luxury of _possibly_ scraping by for the week.

Leif returned with a first-aid box. However, the boy was nowhere to be found. Only Charlotte still stood on the crimson-stained, glass-littered dirt path. In her hand she held the remnants of a blood-red rose, petals torn and stem bent. She stood dumbstruck in shame and regret.

"Oh, Charlotte, are you all right? Has the rascal hurt you badly? I won't let him hurt you. He's not going to do something as vile like that ever again; I'll make sure he doesn't. I didn't know criminals like him would have the gall to attack a defenseless girl like you..." he gently cooed. "Here, let me clean you up a bit."

She gently pushed away a towelette and murmured. "No, no. Don't worry about me; I'm all right. That boy, I didn't even get his name. I hope he really knows that I didn't mean it, that I'm truly sorry..."

The old sloth shook his head and returned to tending the shop; the ruckus over, customers began going back to their own business, once again milling about and eyeing the bounties of spring's grace. This time they would have the luxury of buying new vegetable seeds and ornate glass jars.

* * *

Hey everyone! I've revised previous chapters, so Luke's foreknowledge of Charlotte should _not _be as out-of-the-blue as it seems. Also, I have added a bit of a prologue _in media res _at the beginning of the first chapter. What do you all as readers think? Should I take the prologue bit out, keep it as it is, or develop it into an entirely separate part? You decide; review and comment!

And as always, thank you all for your support. Almost _**seventy **_reviews – it's truly wonderful how much you guys care; I'm truly grateful for that.


	8. Chapter 8: Lunchtime with a Sage

**Lunchtime with a Sage**

* * *

A boy in a crimson-stained shirt calmly trudged underneath midday sun's relentless fire and collapsed onto a broken bench. Sweating doggedly, he wondered if the morning's cool breezes were just a subterfuge for the day's sweltering heat. He plopped down the weighty delivery bag with a _poomph!_, and rested his tired arms and legs. Elina received her guitar, Margaret (or was that Margarine?) got her table, and Anna acquired her Triceratops skull fossil. Of course, he didn't forget that fair-haired girl either. _A bit hasty... but that girl, I mean Charlotte, she _did _apologize and I mean she's really not that mean-hearted and I do admit that I was a bit mean for not responding to her and oh man that brief smile when she looked at me or did she... aw, heck! Why is it so hot today? _

Either way, deliveries after that gardening shop were no less than back-and-forth cross-town treks, and after a very troubling morning, Luke needed some well-deserved rest. He met many clients that morning, and he noticed the slight tinge of weariness in the faces he saw, including the girl holding the rose. They all smiled, but were they real smiles? He leaned his head, caked in dirt and blood and sweat, and let the boughs of a nearby oak shade him. He had no money to buy a meal – apparently he now owed exactly four thousand Bells to Nook for that faded green uniform and "other fees", but that was okay. He was by himself in peace. Besides, dinner was more important – well worth the thousand or so he had remaining. He would be plumb broke, and he was seriously considering finding that red-haired lady to ask for more money.

The white-haired boy's mind trailed off to another memory from earlier that day. "Seven hundred an hour minus fees and charges... If I calculate things right, I might break even for a week's expenses. And that's before getting anything personal like clothes or toothpaste. But come on, he even took away the four thousand I had in my pocket! Stupid work 'fees'. If only Nook could see! How am I going to live until Friday..?"

Luke counted the cracks along the peeling, yellowy bench. Ten on this slat.

"I am hungry; I am tired. Plus, I got no money for lunch. Maybe tonight I'll feast on a can of soup... Well, considering Miss Verity was nice enough to give me five thousand Bells, maybe I could push and ask for a sandwich tomorrow? Aw, that's pushing it a bit. Well, I guess I won't die from skipping a meal or two. I'll just go talk to her tomorrow. Low of me, but hey, what can I do? Hopefully she won't lash out like last night! Haha, what a great adventure I've got ahead of me..."

The boy just tiredly combed his hair with dirtied hands and faintly smiled, accepting life's wonderfully sweet grace. He relaxed his head back and stared out past the small park and toward the crumbling graffiti-splattered building exteriors, and the warmth of spring day radiated onto his pearl-white hair.

_If only I could do something. This town is falling apart every day. If only I could!.. But how? I-I can't do anything. I want to, but I... I am nothing._

The ugly stench of truth had caught up with him. Yet this time, there was no need for the emotions. There was no crying for Luke, for he had learned through his academy years to discard such a useless feeling. There was only acquiescence, and he hated himself for it. But on the outside he still smiled anyway, always with a kick of energy. He learned to do that too.

Gaining a bit of energy from the short rest, he pulled the heavy, single-strapped bag with a grunt and wheeze and brought out a crumpled slip of paper. "Right. Well, not much more time for whining; I got work to do," he muttered. "So let's see. Next on our list... aha! Dr. – smart guy, he seems – Cinder. So he's supposed to get a porcelain chess set. Wonderful to see not everyone's dirt poor here. Ah, he's in the town hall too. Urk, I hope he's not Tortimer's vice-mayor or something. Well, better get going then, can't displease the government too."

With that he hopped off the cracked bench and briskly strided, taking refuge underneath the shade of overhanging boughs and awnings as he prowled through the town. He hoped for a quick stopover at Town Hall, wishing to get the deliveries over and praying to hide away from the tortoise. Still, he was a bit curious to see the "amazingly grand place" which Rover seemed to keep gushing about only a couple days back.

"Hopefully it's something a bit less crummy than this town," he mumbled.

...

His hopes came true. A refreshing blast of ice-cold air conditioning flushed over Luke's messy hair as he pushed the tall glass doors and pounded his feet with a _clomp!clomp!clomp! _onto the black marble floor. Town Hall was a monolith, a grand and polished castle in stark contrast to the shabby town. It was both the metaphorical and literal center of Altomaire. Luke "oohed" and "aaahhed" at the sight of it all: smooth granite columns, sky-scraping roofs, and a colossal dome smack-dab in the middle, buttressed by huge arches. Had the temple been built in an ancient kingdom, it wouldn't have been so out-of-place.

The white-haired boy whistled as he craned his neck around. "This place is amazing! Rover was right, Town Hall is huuuuuge! Heh, well, maybe I'm just happy to see something not crumbling apart around here. Nice to find a place so well-trimmed. Almost – no, definitely bigger – than the Academy Observatorium back at home. Well, Altomaire's a pretty decent-sized town anyway. But just look how huge this Town Hall is!"_  
_

Small crowds of suit-laden animals walked about the gargantuan chambers, holding papers and talking in either hushed or raucous voices. An air of professional busyness and business wafted, leaving Luke to feel out of place. The plenary session apparently over, most were delegates and aides scurrying to find a place to sit, discuss policy, and eat some damn lunch. _Haha. Lunch. Funny. Bet these guys all have enough caviar to glut their tummies._

Indeed, most probably did. Their jet-black suits matched the darkness of the marble floor; the only difference he saw among them was the color of their ties. A couple looked disdainfully upon the dirty, now-plebian boy. _Narcissists, they are. Probably corrupt thugs too, maybe even plainly Tortimer's tie-wearing henchmen. But hey, whatever; I have better things to worry about: a delivery for some Dr. Cinder_.

However, before he went on to ask for directions, something caught the boy's eye. In the midst of the sprawling black-floored Hall stood majestically a tall column of light! Even while the blackened interior of the grand building loomed, goldenness still pierced and shone brightly. The light was broken up by passing dark clouds and dark-suited ones, but it still shone powerfully in a dark chamber.

Luke ran to the light and stood underneath the giant glass dome, gaping in awe. He stared directly upward and saw clear blue skies. Bright rays penetrated the glass and bounced off the onyx-black floor. They tickled his messy white hair warmly; how the boy loved it! He stood gazing, feeling a renewed energy. Though the rays were faded and dulled by the dark shadows inside, it still shone strong, and-

"Excuse me, dear boy, are you lost?" a voice calmly questioned.

Luke was still dreaming. "Yes, yes I'd love to be. Safe and lost in here away from this weary town..."

"Ohhoh, I would as well. Unfortunately, such circumstances prevent us from turning a blind eye. On the other hand, hope shall never die. Neither will light, at least for a couple more billion years," the deep voice continued. Tones of deep intellect blended with curiosity.

"Well, that's true, and- heywaitaminute, oh!" Luke jumped, turning to the one standing next to him in the light. "I am so sorry! Oh, I've got a delivery to finish, what am I doing here just standing like an idiot and everything-"

"Nonsense. By all means, take your time. I am well assured a couple minutes won't harm you."

Not quite the scoffing tone he heard so much right before.

Standing to his right in spring day's golden light stood straight and tall a suit-bedecked gray wolf. He checked his pocket-watch and readdressed the boy. "And I am quite aware that the only delivery from Mr. Nook would be for a Mr. Cinder, correct?"

"Er, well, yes! That's why I'm here, haha!" Luke nervously laughed. The wolf, wizened with age, cocked his head.

_A fine time to be wearing shirt and jeans in a place like this! Ugh, is my face still stuck with blood and dirt? How embarrassing! _He awkwardly combed his hair and wiped some grime off his face. The old one gave a faint smile and walked away. He was the first not to give an odious frown to the kid.

"You would be very correct in that regard. Though I must say, you needn't be worried about your appearances right now; just come next time in more clean attire. But worry not. Mister Cinder should be in Room 77 within the North Wing."

"Wings? Town Hall's _that _big?" Luke gaped.

"Indeed, though the reason is that it serves as the hub for virtually every government function. South Wing holds the judiciary court and the Center Wing houses executive and departmental offices."

_Executive offices... the mayor! Better stay clear away from that place._

"However, the North Wing hosts the Council body's functions, including the Honorable Delegate's office. You should find him without issue."

And with that the gray-eyed wolf ambled back into the maze of columns and halls just as quietly as he appeared, leaving Luke more curious than ever.

_And this Mr. Cinder's a politician too! Huh, wonder if he's closely linked with Tortimer. Hope not. I hope he's just like this old wolf dude I just met. A bit enigmatic, though, but nice enough; definitely not like what Miss Verity told me, though she did say that the place's just Tortimer's seal-of-approval. But maybe not all the politicians here aren't that bad. Speaking of Tortimer, though, how in the world could these folks afford such a nice Town Hall in a dumpy town like this?_

Well, Luke already knew the answer.

The boy paced into the winding marble-tiled North Wing hall. He passed over a set of heavy oaken doors – probably near some sort of chamber – and studied the plaques to find Room 77.

"Seventy-four, seventy-five, seventy-six... seventy-seven! Aha!" he zested. A loud _Dong!Dong!Dong! _bell sounded noon's approach, and whilst Luke rapped the thick door, he took a look at its label. "Dr. Cinder: 6th Ward Del, Council Min. Leader".

thumpthumpthump!

"Riiiight. He's a 'doctor'. Wait, the wolf said 'mister'?"

_Creeeaaak!_

The door opened with a familiar face at the receiving end. "Ah! Wonderful to see you here. I believe we have met before!"

Somehow, the old wolf managed to jet past Luke and end up in his own office like nobody's business. A luncheon spread was even spread out too; delicious scents wafted out the door and teased the hungry boy.

"Mmmhmm... food... Oh! Righttt. Yes, I do think we have met under that dome or something."

"Very good, my dear child! I do believe I am expecting a delivery from Mr. Nook's wares. Your uniform displays your employment as deliverer for him."

_More like a wage slave. But sure. _"Of course!" the boy bubbled. "I have got a special delivery for you from the _wonderful _tanuki! One moment please, Dr. Cind-"

"Ahahah! No need for such formalities, just call me Darius. Your faithful 6th Ward representative for a better tomorrow," he chuckled. For a sagely politician, the wolf was, to say the least, a bit eccentric.

"Oh, of course, Darius!" _Second time someone wants me to stop it with the 'formalities'. _"Now the delivery... here you go! Oof, it's heavy. But, er, why didn't you just pick it up when we met back there?" Luke huffed as he hoisted out a hulking box from the messenger bag.

"Well, doing so would have made us both appear quite odd, wouldn't it? Reputations are very important things in life. Books are judged by their cover first, and then they're bought and read later."

_Well, maybe yours. I don't think I'd be harangued for conversing with a plebian deliveryboy. _

Luke warily smiled as he helped open the heavy box. "True words from honest people."

The suit-wearing gentleanimal laughed in a fit of glee. "As much as you believe. And by Iwata's irons! It has finally come! Oh, what a most magnificent day today is, yes, my dear child- er, what is your name?"

Luke cracked an awkward dust-and-blood-chapped smile. "Uhm, my name is Luke. And to answer your other question, of- of course it is! But what's so great about some heavy box? It's just a chess set in here."

The graying wolf chuckled as he carefully unwrapped the package. "Oho, Luke, it isn't just any normal chess set! It is an exclusive Albright set, handcrafted from crystal-glass and porcelain!" he exclaimed, fixing on a monocle to study a pawn's intricate etchings. "Why, if I hadn't had the luck to find one from Nook, I would have just as easily bought from Redd. For its price, a bargain as well; a mere fifty thousand Bells."

_Fifty thousand?! A bargain?! _

_Oh right. He has the money. Figures. Can't trust any of these pol guys, but I thought at least this Darius guy would be... I dunno, different? Especially after Tortimer..! Verity's right; they're just a bunch of suit-wearing crooks. _

"Now, to set it down... and I shall find good use for it. In fact, perhaps tonight I shall find time to enjoy this game. You know, mayhaps we could even enjoy a game?"

The old wolf's kindness did little to assuage Luke's massive distrust. "Er, no thanks. I've got other things to do," he lied.

Darius raised an eyebrow. "Whatever you see fit. However, I still must repay you, Luke, for your services and patien-"

_GROWWLLL!_

Darius paused from his unpacking. An unceremonious roar escaped from Luke's stomach, and he grew hot in embarrassment while hastily tightening his belt. He was never in that situation before – it was an odd feeling to him, the former son of some upper-class aristocratic parenthood, to feel the raw pangs of hunger.

"Dammit! Not in front of him too..." Luke inaudibly whispered.

The white-haired boy blushed in embarrassment and tightened his belt. "Er, I'm so sorry! Apologies for the, uhm, outburst... please, pardon me; I just couldn't-"

But the pause grew into a hearty fit of raucous, wheezing laughter. "Ohohoahah! Haha! Nonsense, Luke. I understand your situation. In fact, I knew from when we met underneath the Great Dome your impositions! What a pity to see so many starving youths like you..."

_Starving youths. Great, I'm another poster child. _"Er, I'm not poor. Well, temporarily I am. But I used to be rich too-"

"Of course, of course! Temporarily, they say. The tenacity and hope of youth – it is a marvelous thing indeed!"

Luke rolled his eyes at the wolf's aloof romp. A much more eccentric fellow he was in the safety of a personal office. "Hey listen, I really got to go, I mean I really _really_ have to finish the rest of these orders..."

"Ridiculous! Not at all. In fact, as repayment, why don't you sit down and enjoy some luncheon with me? I believed I packed too much this morning for my own good again, hoho!"

"I'm extremely grateful for that, thank you," he mumbled. _I actually want to get out of this snob shop right now. _"But listen, Darius, I have all these delivery orders still-"

The old wolf chuckled and raised a mahogany pipe to his jaw. "Hohoh. I heard you the first instance. You lie, boy."

Luke swiveled one-eighty degrees. "Excuse me?"

"You are lying. You really don't have many more orders."

"Yeah I do!"

"No, you do not. In fact, I have a strong speculation that my chess set was the day's final order. I can easily deduce and prove this."

"You used to be a fortune teller?" the boy incredulously asked. He had little patience as a fifteen-year-old and much less for superstition.

"Not as much so as a detective. And an attorney, to boot."

"Er... okay. So what did you want exactly, Dr- I mean, Darius? Are you going to read my palm or something? I mean, I really have to finish the rest of these orders..."

"No need to lie in front of me. Your bag, likely cumbered before with multiple packages, held only one large box when I met you, and now it is almost completely empty. You lacked haste in your emotions, professionalism at the 'day's end'. Your clothes and body is drenched in sweat, and though not quite significant in evidence, demonstrates that you have been expending quite a fair bit of energy to _complete_ the deliveries."

"Well that doesn't prove a thing!"

"Maybe it doesn't. Yet it provides strong implications. Perhaps most importantly is that in your hand lies a crumpled paper, a paper which is quite long and thin. Receipt paper. And, since this paper was most likely from a retail store, what could it be possibly be utilized for in the hands of a deliveryboy like you?"

"...A list of customer deliveries," Luke admitted.

"Correct. In your misstep, you crumpled the list, signifying that it was completed. No more customers to worry about, meaning that you've got nothing to do until six o' clock when you clock out," Darius concluded, taking a long puff of the redwood pipe.

Awestruck, Luke was sure this wasn't the eccentric old coot he had met a couple minutes ago. "How... did you?"

"I wasn't bestowed a juris-doctorate for nothing. Now, how about for a hearty luncheon? I am quite sure you'll have the time. And seeing as you have plenty of time to spare, why not enjoy a game of chess as well? I am quite sure you would love to take a break from your restless job," he followed, taking a long puff from the pipe.

"...I give up Darius. You win."

"Hohoh. It wasn't a matter of winning; I save that for the plenary. Rather, I believe I've succeeded in getting some direly-needed nourishment for you. Your pale and gaunt physique pointedly exhibits signs of hunger. And it seems that you've been in a bit of a scuffle also; why don't we forget that with a nice hot meal?"

The gray-eyed wolf brought from a sturdy box a warm container of food. He opened it, releasing a savory aroma which teased the boy's hunger. Thick, peppery smells wafted in the air of the office. Luke blushed as, for a second time, the enigmatic wolf uncovered another truth.

"Morue frite au sauce d'Alacarã. A favorite of mine, just with the right amount of grilling and seasoning. Lemonade complements its spicy flavor too."

_GROWWWLLLL!_

"Well, I guess lunch and a game never hurts, right?" Luke answered as he hungrily gazed. Having eaten nothing but a small bowl of soup in days, he now was willing to give up lying. _And maybe he's not the kleptocrat Verity – and I also – assumed everyone here to be, at least not as bad as the rest. I think I'm going to enjoy this lunch! _The wolf only smiled, pulling out two sets of plates and cutlery.

...

There was a bit of a difference between their eating habits. Luke, already half-starved, ravenously devoured the dish and downed a can of lemonade without pause. Darius on the other hand took time to swallow careful morsels, savoring each peppery, saucy bite. Oftentimes he stopped to contemplate on something only to resume the drawn-out meal. There was a mutual fascination as the old wolf analyzed the energized youth and the boy took good looks at the elder's dignified pose. During the course of the lunch, Luke excitedly explained everything about his life from the moment he stepped off the plane from his arrest, "payment" to Tortimer, new career, poignant conversations with Isaac and Verity, and of course the awkward situation that morning. While they conversed and laughed, it seemed as if Luke found someone who he could be honest with.

"Well I'm not completely surprised by it all. The people and animals here, I mean. Isaac has got quite a fearsome reputation – good thing he's serving his prison term. Nook... he's also got a special standing. However, Tortimer surprises me the least of all; I've known that tortoise for over twenty years," Darius mused, taking a long puff.

"You _what?!_" Luke sputtered.

"Although that doesn't necessarily equate to respect and camaraderie."

"So how do you know him so well?" the boy asked in a hushed voice of suspicion, fear, and excitement.

"We've both been, quite frankly, major players on the stage of public affairs. Tortimer has been the mayor for quite a while – he's never gotten less than ninety percent of the vote. Only for twenty-or-thirty-something years."

Luke caught his scoff. "Riiiiight. But aren't you something too? I mean, your office is pretty darn big compared to the rest."

"I hold the position Council minority leader: third-in-command after Tortimer and his deputy, the majority leader. Both those two are... quite interesting fellows. Especially the honorable mayor."

"So you two are like rivals, right?"

Darius chuckled and set down his tobacco pipe. "Hohoh. Quite, but not really. I consider it something more dramatic than that."

Luke quickly realized a stunning contrast. Both were elegant, charming, and certainly clever, yet one smiled in genuine joy. The other smiled in sadistic lust. He glanced to a very dated photo on a bookshelf. Younger, the two were, shaking hands at some commemoration. In fact, they seemed no older than Verity. Still, neither looked at the other. "Enemies. You two hate each other, don't you?"

"Not on the television screens, no. Not on the live debates and Mayor's Questioning, no. We lead different parties, we are embodiments of opposite ideologies, but we would never dare to perform any barbaric behavior beyond disagreement."

Luke took a long sip of lemonade. "Obviously, you can't dare to in public. Reputations are very important things in life. But behind the curtains, aren't the actors quite different people than they seem?"

"You may very well believe so. I couldn't possibly comment," Darius answered, slowly unwrapping the polished chess set. Black and white tiles colluded with each other on the board.

"And on top of that, aren't only the best-looking book covers picked up for the contents to be read and praised?"

"You are a clever boy, far more intelligent than I first presumed. I am fortunate to have made your acquaintance," the wolf coolly noted, swiveling his chair and peering to a window.

_Heyyyy, he wasn't calling me dumb, was he?_

"So I have a bit of a request," he continued. "I would like for you to observe the show."

"Wait, what? As in, see you and Tortimer duke it out in Council?"

"Hohoh! A fascinating way to put it. But yes; this afternoon, two o' clock for exactness, the Council meets for another plenary session. The weekly Questioning Time for the mayor will come, and I shall be leading the Opposition."

_Clearly, he's going to grill that old hag. Expose him and show all the wrongs and evils he's done! Hey, maybe something _can _be done! _"So you are duking it out! Hmm, I'd like to see this!"

"Honored to hear these words. Though I usually don't bring this up with the usual folk, I believe you're a bit of a different child. Keener than the common. In that regard, I'd like you to come join this afternoon and take a visit. Watch and see the actors on the theater; it's an exciting sight. I'm not asking you to do anything aside from merely observing the act."

"Okaay. Will do! Besides, I got nothing to do 'til six!" Luke saluted. For as boring as some legislative inquiry seemed, Luke saw this as a chance to see the tortoise again, to see the white-whiskered fight the black-hatted mayor as equals. A chance, he thought, to find a trickle of justice.

_The child does make me feel forty years younger, anyhow, even just by standing near his ebullience. But he also has something else in him, something which makes me feel like I can actually stand a fight against the kleptocrat. I can sense it. But he also reminds me of someone... yes... him. Mmmh. Ah, never mind._

Darius smiled back warmly and instructed the excited boy to come back with a clean change of clothes, formal ones preferably. A suit: jacket, shirt, tie – the works. Luke mused and scratched his head, trying to remember something.

"Well, the shirt and tie I do have; I knew I'd need those stuffy clothes for some odd day. But actually now that I remember, I think I lost the suit jacket, unfortunately. Ah! I guess I just misplaced it while packing!" he shrugged, laughing, lying.

Yes, lying. Luke lied. He lied to bury those painful memories, he burned the logo-emboldened jacket to try to erase an unerasable past. And now, the little boy did what could do best: smile and laugh. But he didn't mention a thing about the academy (for that was standard uniform fare): nothing before his flight. Those ugly memories there were too painful to uncover, even to the gentle wolf whom he ate with, whom he trusted.

Yet grey-eyed Darius knew; he saw cracks in the smile. The old wolf gave a warm smile back. "Perplexing indeed. I am still sure you can make it in time, even though your house seems distant away from Town Hall. No matter about the jacket; it is of no more importance."

"I-Thanks Darius. But yeah, I'll definitely come back clean and dandy!.. Still, don't we have a lot of time, even before two? It's barely even noon."

"Precisely, which is why – _grunt! _– I unpackaged this."

He set a couple black and white figurines on an ornate porcelain board and pushed the set toward the boy. The glass pieces reflected little rays of light as the office was filled with spring day's graceful gold. A perfect timekiller for two hours, and a marvelous opiate for the brain. An even better distraction for smiling souls.

Luke cracked a grin. "I knew as soon as you opened the thing that you were going to make me play all along. Well, I've got a couple hours to kill, so why not? I'm not too good at the game, but I know what pieces go where. Hm, I even played this game when- er, you know what? Never mind. Anyways, why don't you go first; elder's preference, right?"

Darius nodded. "Very well. Let us begin! I shall commence."

_Clack! _

A lowly black pawn advanced two squares into the fray. Luke scratched his white-haired head and nodded. "I see you've moved it there. Right in the middle too. Okay, well I haven't played this game in a long time... but I guess as the white team, I gotta go now, right?"

"Indeed; your move."

_CLACK! _

_Clack!_

"Hey, I think I've got the hang of it again!"

_CLACK! Clack!_

_CLACK! Clack!_

_CLACK! Clack! _

"Hmm... it seems that you've thwarted my most perfect opening. Saw through the ruse, did you? This should be an interesting battle, Luke!"

"You bet it'll be!" he gleamed as a white bishop landed across the board with a resounding _CLACK!_

Grey-eyed Darius felt relief, for he knew he had adverted something terrible before it began.

* * *

I swear these chapters are getting longer and longer. Oh yeah, there's also a quote reference to one of my favorite TV shows (and a bit of an influence on the story); I'm sure you can find it!


	9. Chapter 9: The Curtains Rise

**The Curtains Rise**

* * *

_Clack! CLACK! Clack! CLACK!_

"Checkmate, Luke," the old wolf nodded, softly placing a glass figurine down with a _clack! _The black rook jumped across the board and sat across a lone white king.

The white-haired boy stared at the board in shock, sputtering. After all, both had only a couple pieces left; how could the boy have lost at this moment? "Wha-? How did you?"

"Simple. You made the mistake of overextending. In your haste you left your left flank wide open, and I set up the knight discreetly to give a false threat."

"I- hmph! You won... say, you're really good! Well, I knew I was about to lose by the last few turns, anyway."

Darius took a long puff from his mahogany pipe. "Hohoh. I admit, I do hone my skills with other players. However, you do seem to be a fine strategist. Childishly rash – you sent out that queen much too early – but perceptive. Not very many I have played with lasted for such an extended period of time."

"Aw, it was just a little over an hour."

"Far better than most of my own associates! Hohoh!"

The two smiled at each other, eyes twinkling with knowing reassurance. A sweet, smoky scent filled the office, and early afternoon's golden shine filled the room. Youthful hope, dashed as it was for the past few days, gazed happily into the knowing irises of wisdom. Luke remembered a moment like this: just last night when a tired red-haired lady hugged him with all her might. But as they carefully put away the glass-and-porcelain set, Luke couldn't help but wonder about something the old wolf mentioned earlier.

"Say Darius..."

"Hmm? What seems to be the issue?"

"Er, it's not too much, I hope."

"No, no; nothing is too contrived for me, hohoh!" the gray-eyed wolf laughed. A sweet vanilla tobacco-scent permeated the air.

"Well I hope I'm not being rude or anything..."

"Go ahead. No need to hide anything!"

"...All right then. Darius, I heard you whisper something."

The wolf feigned curiosity. "Oh? What was that?"

"You mentioned that I remind you of someone."

The old wolf froze in his tracks. A small _clatter! _punctured the quiet air as a pipe dropped from his lips onto the floor. Two words were barely above a mumble. "I see."

"Are you trying to hide something? Did somebody, you know..?"

He fumbled to pick up his pipe. "That is... that is nothing to worry about," he mumbled. _I am sure he knows. He may have deduced already. That somebody, perhaps it is appropriate that I tell- no! It is too much: a matter not to be shared. Even with the child, as much as he..!_

"Darius, are you all right?"

The wolf nodded, watching lazily out a window. "Er, I apologize for the slip. Nothing of anyone's business, I suppose."

"Uh-huh. I see, I guess."

"No matter. A story for another date."

"Sure Darius. Sure thing," Luke said, catching something amiss from the usually amicable tone.

Without turning, the wolf continued. "Right. But rest assured, it is nothing of your concern. I apologize if my behavior bothered you."

"No! Not at all! Look, we can talk about things like this another time, right? Sorry about that, I thought you really freaked out for a moment there."

Satisfied, grey-eyed Darius's usual voice came back. "Of course, of course. I am fine, if you are wondering. Very well then! Glad to hear so. Well, it is just past one-forty. Mayoral Inquiry begins in twenty minutes, and- Oh! My apologies. I should have warned you earlier; it is a formal occasion indeed! I must remind you that you must wear something more acceptable_. _You will be a guest of honor, anyhow."

The boy gazed down and noticed his shirt stained with blood and dirt, his body caked in sweat. Of course, t-shirts and jeans weren't exactly formalwear.

Luke blushed. "Er, yeah! No problem. I'll just change and get back in no time. Speed's my specialty of course!" he cheekily grinned. "But I gotta return the bag and the uniform to Nook, when am I gonna have time to do that?"

"I noticed. Yet that is no worry at all."

Confused, Luke stared a bit closer to the kooky old wolf. "You kidding me? Nook would destroy me if I didn't turn in my stuff by six! Have you heard of the stories? He's a hard boss! I just can't _leave _my stuff here and forget! Besides, I gotta clock out by six – he hates overtime."

"Hohoh! Allow me to finish with a call to Mr. Nook himself. You'll see the just one of the few perks power brings."

"Hunh?"

The old wolf punched a couple keypads into a brass telephone set. _Beep! Beep! Beeeep! _

"Darius, what are you-"

He talked into the earpiece. "Yes, is this Mr. Nook..? Fine, thank you. Yes, I do. Not usual business, I am afraid. Er, well, you must see... you have a deliveryboy, yes?.. I would like for Luke to drop his bag and uniform off at your store and finish his shift early. Yes, finished all deliveries in record time... No, I am afraid I must disagree with you; he is _no _troublemaker."

Luke blushed, coughing a little after hearing Nook's faint, contrived voice.

"Wha- look, Mr. Nook, a child like him _deserves _a break. Do you not understand his suffering? And this does not include the others. I- No. This issue will in fact be discussed soon. Oh, you should be quite surprised indeed. Besides, your business should have been slated for shutdown _years _ago with the inspections and tax evasions and what-not. Ohoh! Secrets are weapons indeed. Anyways, he will be going now_. _Yes, I mean _now_. If I hear another word about your so-called 'business interests'... what a load of offal! Good day, Mr. Nook."

The authoritative voice ended with a "harrumph!", and he set down the earpiece with a little extra force.

"Umm, is everything all right?" Luke wondered.

"Yes, yes. All fine," Darius answered, rubbing his temples. "Though I must admit that Nook is quite the difficult negotiator. Still, we needn't worry; he did agree to let you drop your things, which means you are free for the rest of the day."

_Although I am quite unsure if my outburst, per se, would warrant his retribution..? No, I shan't think the worst. Nothing should happen; Nook is safely under my thumb. _

A broad smile widened across Luke's face. "Really? So I can go now?"

"Yes, yes of course! In fact, you had better hurry; the session begins in less than twenty minutes," he replied.

"Aw, no worry; it's not way too far. Besides, speed's my game; just watch me!"

"Of course; you will be just fine, and Mr. Nook agreed to allow you to drop your things off. You will be just _fine,_" he tried to reassure.

"Yahooo! Alrighty then! I'll see you back soon!" the white-haired boy yelped as he jumped from the leather chair, flung the door open, and sprinted out the building with a _Clomp!Clomp!Clomp!_

Gray-eyed Darius smiled while he waited for the boy to return. "A very interesting fellow he is. Very different from the rest, too; no one has ever lasted beyond a half-hour! Ah, how he reminds me... almost too similar, they are, although Luke must learn how to control himself. He shall learn the trappings in due time, and anyhow, his jubilance is quite frankly contagious! Though I fear..."

He paused, and while again getting lost in his thoughts, reached for the pipe and took another long puff.

...

Copper should have arrived forty minutes earlier ready to report for the afternoon-evening shift. Instead, he arrived at the crumbling little police station unnaturally late, stumbling and reeking of an odor mixed with sweat and bitter, black coffee. His shirt flailed as he clumsily walked in the unbuttoned garment. The tall, gallant officer, it seemed, had a bit too much to drink.

Booker rose from his work and carried the officer inside a cramped office room with peeling walls. "Uhm... hey! Uh, Copper, are you all right (I hope)?"

The German Shepherd weakly pushed him away and mumbled in scorn and disgust. "Mmph. Go away. Long night – no more, no more!"

Concerned, Booker eased him into a chair and peeled the sweaty uniform off his comrade's back. "Uh... what, er, what got into you? You're not... you're not into your usual self, I think."

"Obviously not, nitwit," he snapped. "Not when you've done something terrible. Not when you think you've done something 'right'!"

The chubby officer was confused. "Hunh? Something terrible and something right? Uh, Copper, what are you trying to uh, say?"

"I'm saying something a simple-minded dolt like you wouldn't understand in a million years," he muttered, burying a tired head into tired arms.

Booker was used to his berating, though not as virulent as this time. "Um, okay. Sorry... but could you uh, try to tell me what is up?"

"All right, all right," Copper mumbled. "Bring me another mug of coffee..."

"I think you've had enough..."

"I said _bring me another mug!"_

"Okay! Okay! So sorry, so sorry!" he chattered, pouring a lukewarm cup of black. Copper officer plucked it and guzzled noisily, downing the whole thing in seconds.

"Mmh. Better. The mind's always a bit clearer with another drink... oh. You wanted something, chubs?"

"Uhuh. What's gotten into you? You're not... normal, I guess. Like you're never late, you've always been so, uh, courteous, and you're never this..."

"What, tired?"

"Sorry!"

"No need for apologies. And this time, I think I'm gonna tell you. I've done something terrible. I thought I was going to accomplish something by punishing evil, I thought I was gonna do some 'righteous anger' crap. But you know what? Wanna know what it's all amounting to?"

Booker shifted uncomfortably. He shifted his gaze from the officer's beady smile to the cracks in the gray walls. "What, Copper?"

"...Nothing," the tall officer scoffed, slamming down the mug. "I'm nothing. Nothing more than scum. And the only thing less than that is the tyrant I'm working for."

Shame and frustration burned into his mind. He buried himself into his arms, angered at Tortimer, angered at his colleague, angered at life, angered at himself. Copper, full of self-hatred and loathing, was tired, and when the anger finally had poured out last night, a whimpering boy took the blows. But when he thought he purged the anger, he only went back to square one.

"Hey, uh, you don't need to-"

"Can it. You already know. I'm nothing more than a thug in cop's clothing. You really think I'm doing anything right? You really think our jobs – hell, our _lives _– are anything more than pieces of our lovely mayor's little chess game? You've seen this world and how wonderful it is, now look at me!"

"Copper, please-"

The muscular dog groggily rose and jangled a few keys. He reeked even more of that odious smell. "I said _shut up! _Just take a good look at me. Look me in the eyes!"

Booker quietly did so. He saw black pupils, cumbered with years of tiredness and shame, and nothing more.

"You really think I'm doing anything good? Tell me what I amount to."

"I think you're still good..."

Silence followed. The gears in his mind finally began to whirr; Booker had a bad feeling this had to do with that troublesome kid.

"Yeah, right. Just as I thought."

Copper muttered and pulled the bumbling officer along into a dark, musty row of cells. "Now I want you to see the terrible thing I've done. 'Righteous anger'. Pfft! What idiocy!"

"Hey, I think you're taking this a bit far..."

The German Shepherd kept walking through the crumbly, dank row past the rusty bars. "Take a look yourself and see what- hunh?"

Booker craned his neck and saw the unbelievable. "Copper! He's, uh-"

A thin trail of crimson led from the dirty floor all the way into the deep, dark cell with its rusted bars tainted a bright red. But inside the moldy cell was nothing; the snarling teen found his way out of the cell and apparently out of the tiny jail.

"...Gone. Of course. Knew we couldn't hold that guy for any long; he's too slippery to lock up. It probably took something of a struggle, judging from all the blood here," Copper grimly mused. He leaned on the other side, sighing against spring afternoon's warm sun.

The chubby officer was still uncomfortable. "But, uh, aren't we supposed to catch him then? Hey Copper, you're really not your, hmm, usual self. Normally you'd just kinda run after criminals in a cinch."

The tired dog leaned back and gave a snort. "Nah. I'm not doing that."

"You _what?"_

"You heard. Let him slide this time. If he does something next time, though, I'll go after him 200%. But this time, maybe it's just fate's way of letting him go. I wasn't too comfortable with what I did yesterday, anyway. That boy... good that he's gone."

"But what about Tortimer? And his deputy? What about them; what if they find out?"

"Hah. You worry too much. It shouldn't be any problem with enough paperwork."

"Uh, Copper?"

The anger in his voice subsided, at least for now. Somehow, the empty blood-stained cell to him gave him peace. "Yes?"

"What were you so... hmm... uncomfortable with, that terrible thing you did last night that you kept talking about?"

"Oh... nothing. It's of nothing. I just- I just allowed anger to seep out rather _unprofessionally._ Stressful job," the officer replied, slowly returning back to his usual self. "Although there isn't quite a lot to be happy with here, isn't there, Booker?"

...

Had it not been for his ability to change clothes in seconds and his impressive sprinting prowess (and the fact that Nookingway was somewhat on the way home), he might have not caught up with Darius before two o' clock.

"Huff... huff... whew! That was pretty (wheeze) far..." the white-haired boy sputtered. He still wondered how he also managed to squeeze in enough time to shower in that dinky bathroom of his.

"Pleasant to see you right on schedule," Darius duly replied, himself bedecked in a fine blue suit. The two stood in the great lobby as they did before.

"Well, I _do _have a knack for that!" the boy in his pure white shirt grinned. His slacks neatly tugged his slim legs, his blue tie flapped wildly as he struggled to knot the jumble of silk. _Some Half-Windsor thing they required... how do I do it again?_

Darius noticed, stooping down in front of the child. "Here, allow me..."

_Twirl! Scrunch! Pulllll!_

A clean, straight blue tie stood proudly on Luke's chest. "Hey, thanks Darius!" he smiled.

"Not a problem at all," the old wolf smiled back. A warm flood of gold pierced through the glass dome above, and both boy and elder basked in sweet sun: light inside the black-marbled Town Hall.

After fiddling with his clean tie, Luke broke the silence. "So what do you big-league guys actually _do _here?"

"Hmm?" gray-eyed Darius asked. "What do you mean? Do you speak of Town Hall?"

"I mean, Altomaire's a small town, and it's shrinking too," _Crumbling apart, more like. Heh. _"So what's with this ginormous town hall and a huge government? Isn't that a bit... expensive?"

The wolf took another curious look at the boy, but he knew the exact answer. "Luke, how exactly did you arrive here?"

He fiddled with his tie again and absentmindedly tucked in his shirt. "Er, I arrived by plane. Apparently we're in some different dimension?"

"Correct, lad. Another dimension. A whole different world. And do you know who has jurisdiction over this whole new world with its rich lands and great cities?"

Luke tried to hide a crude chuckle. "Uheh, you guys?"

"Correct. We are the highest power in the land – all this, free from the other human-ruled one."

_Highest power besides Tortimer. _"Oh, that's right. Of course!.. So what would you be doing right now with all the other guys inside that big room?"

"We hold the power to do many things, Luke. One of which is to rebuild and to let rot. Can you guess who wants what?"

Luke nodded. Clouds passed over the dome and shaded out the light. "I know exactly what you mean. That Tortimer and his cronies..!"

"And when you put one hundred suit-wearing hypocrites into one room, can you imagine the show?"

"But I thought you guys were here to help out this town. I mean, you're all elected for something."

"Well, in a moment you shall see the full story, the larger picture."

A spark flashed from Luke's eyes. "Darius, take me with you. I need to see what's going on!"

Darius proudly walked forward, pushing the great wooden doors open and inviting Luke into the fray. Inside the Legislative Council's great hall were rows of benches facing each other, gradually filling up with more suited animals. All had a strange air of ambition and dogma and a sprinkle of campaign-promoted gallantry. "Then come, watch the actors take the scene as the curtains rise. You are about to witness power at its finest!"

The two strode into the hall, a great room with parallel seats. On one side seated Darius, a boy, and a couple dozen more animals; they were the opposition to Tortimer's Popular Front. The other side bulged with a crowd of tall and proud officials, taking their time to find seats and murmur officiously. And it came to no surprise to the little boy that these animals, these scornful scores, were led by, along with his closest attachés, the last one to enter the fray: an old king, calloused by decades of hardship and corroded by greed.

Luke immediately spotted him and cringed. "Darius!" he whispered.

"Yes, Luke?"

"It's him; he knows me!.. What does he want from us?"

Darius brought out from his briefcase a bundle of documents. "Hohoh. Nothing save our best opposition. He's not in complete power; we're here to fight."

"Or more like to be a rather _prickly_ thorn in my side," a voice coughed.

The old tortoise stood tall and eerily gallant with his top hat and black tie. He rested his weight on an oaken cane and leaned over toward the pair who sat on the front bench. Luke shifted back, cowering in fear yet smiling at the same time.

"Good afternoon, Tortimer," Darius briskly smiled. "A pleasure to see you this fine day. May I ask why you had the gall to snoop and interrupt our conversation?"

"Hef horf! Nothing but a friendly gesture. Please, the honor's mine," he coolly replied, outstretching an arm. The old wolf cautiously shook it in return. Luke nervously readjusted his tie.

"Very well then. I do warn you, however, that today I will spare no quarter in regards to the weekly inquiry. You understand that this town's conditions are not well managed."

"Pah! I would love to hear you and your party's rabble today. Well managed – what a compliment!.. And who might this fine young lad be?" Tortimer asked, feigning interest. Two beady eyes and a wide smile ostensibly displayed friendliness.

Luke gave his usual smile. "My name's Luke; pleased to meet you. I think we've met before, though. How are you doing, Mr. Tortimer?"

"Very well, very well my lad. I notice that you are in league with my old _friend _Darius. How charming," Tortimer smugly said. Luke noticed the same black marble inside the room. "Well, I do believe it is about time for the inquiry to start... a rather exciting moment you should see. Good day to you both. And you best watch yourself, little child."

As the tortoise turned around and sat back in the opposite front-row bench, the rest of the chamber quickly filled up with more suit-wearing delegates and visitors. The weekly inquiry was about to begin. Darius and Luke silently looked on, and when the speaker, a rather young cat, rose from her high chair, the curtains rose and the actors began their moves.

_CLACK! CLACK! CLACK! _went the gavel in the uproarious councilroom.

"Order! Order I say!" she yelled with vociferous authority, hushing the crowded room. "Today's agenda shall be the weekly inquiry session to the mayor, as you should all know. Questions from the opposition, I presume, or visitors shall be administered toward the honorable mayor until the session terminates, and they will be answered in full."

Murmuring and rustling of papers filled the black-marble chamber. Tortimer stood from the front bench and rested his arms on the desk facing Darius's. Luke nervously shuddered in anticipation. Thick tension built up as a clear face-off between the two highest powers precipitated.

The speaker continued. "Very well, very well. Our inquiry's first speaker today shall be Mr. Cinder, the leader of the opposition, the Reform Alliance."

The bearded tortoise smiled so malevolently that Luke averted his gaze to the dark sky outside.

The grey-eyed wolf rose proudly and calmly. "Thank you, Miss Speaker. Yes, today I would like to urgently address a serious issue which has wrought our world for years."

Tortimer grinned. _I am watching you, little boy. How dashing you look in that shirt and tie of yours. Oh, a pity how skinny you are; have you not eaten well? Hef horf! Please feel comfortable with my friend Darius. A shame you aren't dying of starvation or rotting in jail with that criminal Isaac! _

"We are ashamed to see our town fall into shambles, and we as citizens are even more ashamed to see our fellow friends and family suffer in poverty – statistically our median income has actually _fallen _over the mayor's leadership by ten percent in five years."

Luke leaned forward. This was something he wanted to hear.

_You hear him, Luke? You hear him rabble about his 'town-saving' policies? Yes, yes! Go on, side with him. Hug that disgusting creature. Oh I know you want to help this town out; I've seen you. You're a fine boy indeed. A fine boy I would love to crush under my heel! But don't be shy; you can speak up too, you insignificant runt!_

Darius's voice rose gloriously in full forte. The normally calm wolf became a warrior facing his enemy. "And so I ask the honorable mayor; what has he done to improve this? What has our leader – elected with astounding success for decades – attempted to help the lives of our people? Surely he has seen the facts and the audits. And so I seriously ask him this: what policy has he implemented to mitigate the crippling poverty and inequality over the years?"

Murmurs stirred in the balconies, "yeas" rose from the opposition benches. Luke glared at the king in his top hat. Jeers spurted from Tortimer's side, and the old mayor only scoffed as he rose.

He spoke eloquently and smoothly, as reassuringly as a dove and as craftily as a snake. "I would like to remind my good friend that his continuous leftist banters do not fully nor accurately surmise our situation. We are living actually in a _golden age _of prosperity and peace! My friends on the opposition do not comprehend that we are in economic stability and, in fact, societal harmony!"

A thunder of applause erupted. Luke clenched his fists. _He's a liar! A dirty liar! That deluded hag – he doesn't care at all; he's only fooling us!_

Tortimer gleefully continued. "While I admit poverty is indeed a serious problem, the honorable opposition leader _absolutely fails _to recognize our successes. Tax reductions, corporate and private, have been implemented. We are now almost debt-free, and our bond repayments are steady. The last town ordinance paid without substantial borrowing, in fact, actually raised job growth by hiring a new security force. It is rather unfortunate to see such ignorant arguments presented in face of sound policy."

A throng of cheers exploded as the tortoise sat down in a smug grin. The overwhelming tide screamed victory in the face of a much smaller beach of opposition. Murmurs intensified in the divided visitors' balconies. Darius, the usual figure so calm and collected, was now in a state of furor, unable to reply amidst a sea of yelling and booing against him from the other side. Though she banged her gavel, the speaker could not at all calm the hurricane.

"Weak accusations!" a pig screeched.

"Cinder at his finest!" a black horse yelled. Dark clouds grew outside the building.

The old tortoise grinned and adjusted his top hat. _Little boy, little boy, do you not see reality? Where is your father now, that old pedantic coot? Can you see the grey tower of doubt crumble in the typhoon of naked truth? _

And a young boy angrily rose within the cacophony. His fists clenched, his white hair a wild mop. He strode over to the opposing desk and wrung his hands down with a _SLAM! _

The visitors hushed their murmurs, and both the opposition and the governing side looked dead on at Luke, who stared dead ahead at the tortoise.

The boy maintained his poise, and full of angry zeal, he faced the storm. "I completely disagree. Mr. Mayor, you have _absolutely no idea _what goes outside your executive suite. The opposition leader's right; Altomaire is crumbling as we speak, and you've got no right to deny that simple fact!"

Murmurs again rose; rustling and hushed whispers were now very audible.

_Heh horf. You do not know what you're about to do. To fence against me – you are stepping into very dangerous territory. Silly insignificant child!_

Out of the boy came a warrior, a beast unlocked from that easy smile which was now the war-mask of discontent. He held not unmitigated anger. "Tell me, Mr. 'Honorable' Mayor, why do I still see the boarded-up buildings and the cracked streets? Why is it that everyone I meet has nothing good to say about the town? I'm sure you've heard this too, but where is all the money going _– _in your big, fat coffers?"

Luke sat back down and calmly readjusted his tie. _I'm not afraid of you, Tortimer. I'm fighting you, right here and right now; give me all you've got!_

The murmurs rose to shouts, and once again the chamber was a frenzied storm of yells. The gavel banged a dozen _CLACKS! _and the speaker cried for order before the noise died down and the grinning mayor rose.

_Little child, you know not what you are doing. But I bide myself for when you are truly a threat. _"To answer the child's question, I simply must state that our government prioritizes its budget in such a way to maximize efficacy and to assuage immediate concerns. Infrastructural improvement is also a high priority, and I hope that this young one can someday understand our functions. But in layman's terms, we spend lots of money on important things, but unfortunately rebuilding little roads isn't as important as, say, paying off a crushing debt or giving our tired government employees their much-needed salaries. Maybe when you graduate out of daycare – I apologize; I mean high school – we may have another poignant conversation," the old tortoise replied, eloquently and reassuringly. Patronizing, almost. His side clapped and cheered, but the opposition – and this time the visitor balconies – remained silent.

His smile was as spiteful as ever. _Welcome to my battlefield, Luke. Please, enjoy the rest of the show; it's well worth watching. Welcome to Altomaire, you little piece of tripe!_

The sky now darkened with stormclouds. Darius grimly looked on and assured Luke that he did a good job speaking up while some members on the other side began to point wicked fingers at the little white-haired boy.

* * *

Sorry about the lateness! I was a bit busy with guests and extra work, but I'll get back to the usual weekly Friday updates.


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